


On the tip of the tongue

by dunadancy



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Actually it's more like flashburn and then edging?, Essek Week (Critical Role), F/F, I don't know man, M/M, Minor Caduceus Clay/Fjord, Minor Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Mutual Pining, OHANA MEANS FAMILY, Slow Burn, Spoilers for characters in EGTW, family means no one can mind their own damn business, friends to idiots to lovers, nightmare creatures as trusty steeds, really bad innuendo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23422438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dunadancy/pseuds/dunadancy
Summary: It starts like this: Essek is deployed as the sexy decoy for the Mighty Nein’s most recent heist. The mission is a complete success with absolutely no radical improvisation or excessive use of fire.It evolves to this: Given their staggering success, Neinssek are immediately entrusted with a mission of political delicacy, because that is definitely their forte and everyone in this ‘verse excels at making logical and informed decisions.A story of magic, family, cunning, and thirsty, thirsty wizards.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 346
Kudos: 436
Collections: Essek Week





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping in midweek to join Essek Week, because I have to be fashionably late in every aspect of my life. Also, bear with me guys- new fandom who dis.

“I am still skeptical about the efficacy of this plan. It is haphazard at best and has virtually no contingencies. We don’t even have the full guest list. Are we confident we want to go in without any further strategizing?”

Essek’s uncertainty was met with good humor and a general disregard for the shortcomings he had listed. Caleb cringed in sympathy as Beau punched the drow in the shoulder. “Buddy, this is the most we’ve planned out any of our heists, stop your whining.”

Essek looked extremely alarmed.

“Besides,” Jester put in, giving a final twist to the elaborate updo she had worked his magically elongated hair into, “you are going to be a snack once I’m finished. Not that you’re not already! But, I mean, get all the gentlemen and ladies swooning, you know? No one will be able to look away!” 

“I can understand your misgivings,” Caduceus put in placidly. “As someone who went through this initiation process, I can assure you it is much worse than anything you can imagine, so you’re better off just not worrying about it.”

“Not certain you’re helping, Deucy,” said Fjord. “Really Essek, it should be a pretty straight forward process. You distract the Head Matron, Veth steals the key to her vault off of her, the rest of us get the Soul Ruby out of the Children of Malice’s possession, Beau mans the get-away mounts, and we’ve found yet another trinket for the Dynasty to focus on instead of further prodding with the Empire. Everyone wins. I mean, except for Lolth’s crazyass followers.” He straightened his own formal attire while trying to look confident. It was not convincing.

“And if something goes wrong, we’ll just kill everyone,” Yasha said softly. In the silence of the room she added, “that was a joke.” 

Veth, who had turned Essek’s face away to apply some subtle makeup, regarded the drow thoughtfully. “It’s like you were born to be a honeypot. I think this should be our go-to strategy from now on. Let’s test it.” 

She swiveled his face towards Caleb, showcasing a silver eyeliner accentuating his angular eyes and a shimmering highlight along his cheekbones that haloed his pale freckles like starlight. Delicate wisps of hair framed his face in a stunning balance of elegance and allure. Caleb choked on his tea. 

“We’re good to go!” Beau proclaimed. 

\--- 

_This is asinine_ , Essek thought bitterly, slowly spinning his way through the elaborate dance steps on the ballroom floor to shift himself closer to the Head Matron. She was likely one of the most dangerous drow alive with a known appetite for weaker males, and he was willingly flouncing his way into her web with a tenuous exit strategy at best. Essek was beginning to worry his most notable personality trait was a complete lack of survival instinct. 

He tried to distract himself from his horrendous life choices by taking in the gala around him. The opulence of the party was only offset by the décor. While Essek had always been uncomfortable with the pervasive theocracy of the Luxon, the religion at least had _taste_. Appropriate ornamentation for the Children of Malice appeared to heavily feature rivers of blood, a truly unacceptable number of spiders, and large, obsidian reliefs of the screaming damned. Not only did it put a damper on the festive spirit, it was just tacky. 

He was saved from his judgement of the gauche skull-shaped goblets against the far wall when a hand closed over his elbow. He glanced up with as demur of an expression has his face would allow to see a hulking orcish woman staring dispassionately down at him. 

“Her Dark Eminence would like to inspect you further. Come.” Not waiting for a reply, she tugged him towards the dais where Vivurk Tonn lounged on a giant horned throne. The Head Matron tapped idly at full maroon lips as she watched him approach, giving an unsubtle once-over of his form. Her cruelly beautiful features were thoughtful. Flattering, if it had come from someone who was her polar opposite. Vivurk licked her lips and Essek felt his testicles retreat into his abdomen to socialize with his kidneys. _This was a terrible idea_. 

“Join me,” Vivurk’s husky voice commanded as they reached the foot of the dais. She waved languidly to a smaller throne to her left. It was understated, only composed of about forty thousand skulls and spiders. “Entertain me through this drudgery and you will earn entrance to my personal chambers tonight.”

Who spoke like this? It was as if she had picked up a tome titled “So You Want To Be an Evil Caricature With Distressingly Sexual Overtones”. She arched an eyebrow, impatient. Essek narrowed his eyes coyly and tilted his chin in defiance. It was a gamble. The Children held the archaic tradition of complete submission from their males, and sauciness would either ensnare her or cost him his head. He used to think he was good at calculated risk. 

Because she was not the Mighty Nein and had the decency to fit his expectations, she snorted, amused. “Oh yes, you will do very nicely. Come, morsel.” The orc gave him a shove towards the dais. He placed a swirl of gravity in her left shoe so she would trip as she left. 

“That’s my cue. Keep it going, Hot Boi, I’m moving in. Youcanrespondtothismessage.” Essek didn’t see Veth anywhere, but that was the point wasn’t it? 

“You honor me, Eminence. I will entertain however you desire.” This felt like a new low, which he supposed was a distinction seeing as he was a war criminal and traitor. He arranged himself primly on the proffered seat only to immediately have a spider leg jam into his left asscheek. Espionage was the actual worse. “How would you have me? Converse, that is.” Veth’s cackle rang though his head. It was insulting but not surprising to know she had wasted a cantrip specifically so he could know she was mocking him. 

Below, he saw the camouflaged Fjord and Caduceus playing at canoodling near the doors to the treasury. _They’re in position. I can’t believe this may actually work_. 

“Share your thoughts on the guests,” Vivurk murmured, sounding half asleep in her boredom. “You look like you have a mouth on you. I want to see it work.”

Oh _yuck_. He would gladly obey her order if only to ignore the implications of that statement. His eyes scanned the crowd, resolutely not settling on Caleb’s current tiefling form winding through the crowd or Jester’s half giant who was spinning an undisguised Yasha like a top. “There is hardly anything to comment on,” he replied in a mimic of her languid tone. “Would you like me to note the Ironeye looks terrified of his little hired courtesan? He must know you can’t handle a drow if you’re not down to plow, and he knows he’s not up for the task.” The Head Matron gave a bawdy laugh, startling the dancers around her who gave uncertain smiles before resuming their steps. “Or perhaps I should note Daev’yana’s conspicuous absence. Not that I miss his tedious droning. That is a tongue that doesn’t know how to pleasure in any form.” Vivurk looked positively gleeful, and Essek felt a brief stab of pride at a job well done before reminding himself that being able to talk shit with the Queen Spider’s mouthpiece was probably a shameful accomplishment. “As for Icozrin-“ he paused, eying the harpist in the corner and factoring in Vivurk’s sideways glance. “You know, they are stunning. No complaints there. Can they join us tonight, perhaps?” 

The Head Matron rested her chin on her palm, propped against the armrest closest to him. “It seems I have finally snagged a pretty little morsel with some semblance of a brain. Go on, treat, you are earning yourself a great many favors.”

Essek was bizarrely torn between gloating over his obvious success and the visceral NOPE of all of her food analogies. He couldn’t tell if she was just deeply into oral innuendo, or if the promised evening would legitimately end in cannibalism if he let it. His eyes skimmed back to the crowd, looking for another source of-

His mind screeched to a halt as his eyes locked with Verin’s. 

_With Verin’s_. 

WITH VERIN’S. 

His brother gaped up at the dais, a stone in the middle of the flowing dance. “Esse-“

Tiefling-Caleb linebacker tackled him. 

The two went down in a pile of flailing limbs and shouts from the surrounding party-goers. Essek was half out of his chair, quite aware of who held the strength advantage there, but some sort of innate sense alerted him to the fact that the damage had been done. His gaze swiveled to the High Matron, whose expression was the most delighted and predatory he had seen all evening.

“I thought I recognized those beautiful eyes, _Shadowhand_.”

The following sequence of events processed in his mind as chaotic stills. 

A flash. His dunamancy tore through the room, pushing their reality a step to the left where she didn’t retaliate in time, allowing him to paralyze the Matron in her throne as time around her locked. 

A flash. The orc guard lunged with her massive warhammer, two strides from crushing his skull before the gravity pull in her left shoe hobbled her and sent her crashing down the stairs into the guard detail that was rushing towards them.

A flash. The dance floor was invaded with a violent cacophony of sparkling hamsters, horns sprouting from their foreheads to gore the Gloomwatch that had come spilling into the ballroom. 

A flash. A _giant fucking demon_ had bypassed the need for a vault key and went crashing into the treasury with Fjord and Caduceus (now reverted to their normal forms) mounted on its hulking back. 

A flash. Veth was inexplicably on the ceiling, hunkered like a spider and firing a crossbow into the crowd like a nightmarish wraith worthy of Lolth’s lore. 

A flash. Essek’s eyes met Caleb’s, and for a moment there was beautiful, entropic fission as Caleb filled with magic and ropes of fire tore through the ballroom, corralling the party goers and guards away from the main group. 

Essek read the move as clearly as if Caleb had sent a Sending. As Vivurk remained a statue in her throne and the guards at the base of the dais flailed in a tangle of limbs, Essek shot skyward, scooped Veth off the ceiling (shrieks and protests), and landed in the protective cocoon of Caleb’s flames. With one hand he touched gently at his bruising, now human eye. The next moment, Essek’s hand outstretched to his dumb jock idiot brother, forcefully pushing him into a deep trance. 

As the screams of the party goers escalated, Beau threw open the doors to the ballroom with a resounding “what the FUCK!”

“They have the Ruby!” Jester abruptly shouted, her features vague as she recovered from the Sending. 

Right. No time like the present to burn an 8th level spell slot. 

Throwing out his hands, Essek opened a gravitational vortex that sling-shotted Fjord and Caduceus back up from the treasury, hauled Beau (and through the collection of reigns tied to her belt, the conglomeration of mounts), into the ballroom, and lifted himself, Caleb, Jester, Veth, and Yasha above the seething mass of confusion to unify them all near the ceiling. 

“Mount up?” Beau shouted over the screams, feral glee painted on her face. 

Essek glanced back down into the ballroom. The demon ape was rampaging through the tasteless china. Caleb’s flames were herding the Children into small groups of panic and chewing through a couple of tapestries who truly deserved their fate. The High Matron was starting to rise from her throne, eyes rabid and fixed on Essek. And below it all, Verin. Unconscious on the black marble floor. 

“Drop me and go,” Yasha stated calmly. “I’ve got him. We’ll rendezvous near the lower Barbs.” 

He didn’t dare question her. As Yasha thundered onto the tile and unceremoniously flung Verin over her shoulder, Essek slipped onto a hovering mount behind Caleb and pressed his face into the comforting smokey warmth of the wizard’s shirt. He reversed the vortex, catapulting the startled mounts out of the hall and into the night in a steak of stars, all the while wondering just how the hell this was his life now. 

\---

Inexplicably, they regrouped relatively unscathed and with their quarry. It was about the least subtle mission Essek had ever been a part of, and he was beginning to have a suspicion that all of his previous machinations had been unraveled by messy, idiotic luck. He couldn’t say he minded. 

“That was cool as hellllll!” Jester crowed, sprawled out on her back in the grass and staring at the night sky. “Can Essek gravity rocket us everywhere now?” A few paces off, their shaking, spooked mounts had a certain quality that Sprinkle emanated. 

“That _was_ pretty badass,” Beau mused, a half smirk on her face as she ran a hand through Jester’s hair. “Though I seriously need to learn a way to disguise myself. Being the get-away chump is boring as hell. I missed all the good stuff.”

“You can take my place next time,” Fjord murmured, his head between his knees. “Please, Essek, just leave me to die in the clutches of the enemy next time. It’s a better fate than that gravity fuckery.” 

“You’ll be alright,” Caduceus murmured, offering him a cup of tea that wafted a ginger steam. Fjord took it gratefully. “Not too bad, all things considered. Are you a bit more comfortable with our methods, Mr. Essek?”

“Absolutely not. I frankly dread the next “plan” you all come up with. It is a statistical anomaly that this entire group isn’t dead.”

“In our defense,” Yasha stated, coming out of the gloom and settling down next to Beau, “it seems the Aurora Guard had a somewhat similar plan to us, but we pulled it off much better. I found a group of them on the outskirts of the palace and dropped your whoever-he-was off to them. They seemed to be delighted that the High Matron chose you over him.” 

Essek sighed, hiding his face in his hand. “My brother. Verin is my idiot little brother. I can’t believe we almost all died because we were both targeting the High Matron.”  


“Sweet!” Veth crowed. “We got the hot brother!”

Essek felt like his face was on fire, hidden in his palm. This was not the notoriety he had dreamed of as a child. 

“The brilliant brother,” Caleb murmured beside him with a companionable shoulder bump. “Perfectly able to balance innuendo and the most seamless casting I’ve ever seen. As soon as you’re rested, I’m requesting another lesson, Herr Thelyss.” 

Essek peeked between his fingers and couldn’t help the twitch of a grin. 

Viva la Mighty Nein.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now multichapter? I’m going to try to collect the week’s prompts and fold them into one story, though not chronologically because of my failure to start with the right prompt. Also, by popular demand: Verin, though he’s gonna show a bit more of his true colors later. This was not the adventurefic I had planned for the fandom, but this is the adventurefic we are all getting.

It was a blessed three days before Essek had to deal with the consequences of his actions. His mother was getting soft. 

The Xhorhaus was its usual low-grade bedlam as he and Caleb attempted to pour over their notes, frantically chasing a new spell they were on the verge of cracking. It mystified him that they routinely met here instead of at his house where they could ponder and calculate without interruption, but Caleb _was_ something of a package deal. He seemed to quietly feed off of the background chaos, and it was a price Essek was willing to pay for his insight. 

“I can’t say why, but a reverse abjuration glyph seems more appropriate here,” Caleb mused, tapping at their partially constructed spell as the house shook with a minor explosion. Essek made a thoughtful noise as there was a pounding on the front door. He marked the thought in the margins while Lord Biylan’s indistinct shouting filtered into the library. Veth’s shrill riposte was equally indistinct as Essek squinted at their equation. 

“But then, with that inverse surge, would we-?” Essek asked quietly, altering a variable that had been nagging at them for the past two days. There was further commotion in the foyer and the door chimes sounded as if they had been thrown to the ground before there were two twangs and the squawk of a bird. It was probably fine. Essek was too distracted by the uptick in his own heart rate. This was genius. It completely bypassed-

“ _Ja_ ,” Caleb said, breathless while scratching a furious note at the bottom of the page. Oh, that was brilliant. That was _utterly_ brilliant. Essek gripped at Caleb’s arm, seeing how the final pieces were coming together. Caleb glanced up, his face transformed with an unhinged joy and fervor, and in that moment, Essek-

Looked up to see his mother’s retainer in the doorway. Dear gods. 

“Essek,” Deyzya greeted joylessly. Her tone stated she didn’t care what he was doing, because she would be disappointed regardless. “The Den Mother orders your presence immediately.”

Whatever he had been feeling a moment earlier shriveled, outsourced by overarching dread. The familiar mantra started up immediately in his mind. _You are the Bright Queen’s Shadowhand. You are your own drow. You are capable of mature and civilized conversation_ -

“Are you in trouble, Essek?” Jester asked timidly from where the rest of the Nein were crowding into the library doorway. All but Veth, who could be seen in the hallway exchanging rude gestures with Lord Biylan. 

“Ah, um. Den politics,” he stated diplomatically at the same time Deyzya deadpanned, “yes.”

The Nein looked back and forth between the two drow before Jester offered softly. “Of course we don’t want to keep her waiting, she is clearly very important and probably busy- my mama is always busy- I bet she is beautiful too, I mean, how could she not be-“

“Why are you still talking?” Deyzya asked rhetorically. She snapped her fingers for Essek to stand, which he was _already doing anyway_.

“Ah, well, it’s just, we were all kind of responsible for whatever she is upset about, and we haven’t even properly met her yet, we should really bring over some pastries-“

“Four of you can come if you shut up immediately,” Deyzya stated. It was oddly accommodating of her. She clearly liked Jester. 

\---

In the end, the procession included Jester (because of course it did), Caduceus (for his much needed insight), Fjord (for whatever high charisma would get them, which was probably nothing), and Caleb (who had stuck to Essek’s side as if it hadn’t been a question, and wasn’t that just a whole other existential crisis waiting to be unpacked). Under different circumstances Essek would have enjoyed watching their reactions to his ancestral home. It was difficult to preen when one was about to be systematically dismembered by their centuries-old matron, however. 

Deyzya halted before the doors leading to the Chamber of the Larks. Not as bad as The Forum of Hushed Whispers. Better if it had been the Gilded Dining Hall. Prognosis was guarded. 

“Essek Thelyss, Shadowhand,” Deyzya announced in a dull and unimpressed voice upon entering the chamber, “and representative members of the Mighty Nein.”

It was a _bit_ absurd adhering to courtly decorum when the room only held his mother and brother, but his family had a reputation to live up to, and that reputation was pretentiousness. That was probably clear by the fact Dierta Thelyss was in full, luxuriant formal robes and Verin was in complete war attire for a family meeting. Essek always wore his mantle so consoled himself that he was the least ridiculous. 

“You bring outsiders to _this_ , Essek?” His mother asked coldly, her eyes glimmering like amethyst. Angry, angry amethyst. “You know what? Fine. Let them witness this. The two of you deserve it. Verin, I swear on the Luxon, if you say one word right now I’m stripping you naked and leaving you in the Coronas.” His brother’s mouth snapped shut, and whatever joy that may have brought Essek vanished when her attention swung back to him. “Stop bobbing in the air like a ponce and sit down,” she commanded. He sat. 

There were several uncomfortable beats of silence. “You went to a party,” Dierta started. Deadpan. “You went to a pre-orgy of the _Children of Malice_. Verin, I expected you would have enough good sense not to get into something like this. Essek, I would have hoped you would have been cunning enough not to get caught. And yet here we are, so which one of you would like to explain to me why the Bright Queen has asked Den Thelyss to personally deal with ‘A matter in Dumaran’? In case you are curious, that matter happens to be the High Matron Tonn demanding you be handed over to her court immediately, Essek, else there are martial repercussions. It is noted this is a mark of her goodwill, as she could be asking for both of your heads.” 

“Well you see,” Jester broken in as Essek closed his eyes and braced himself, “it really wasn’t his fault. We approached him about helping with a mission from the Bright Queen- which we totally completed and now the Dynasty has the Soul Ruby, so you’re welcome for that, it’s super pretty and really powerful- but we needed Essek as a distraction and he was like _super_ good at it, Vivurk wanted to climb him like a tree. You should be very proud. Like, she was INTO it- is it weird to hear about someone wanting to ride your son into the ground? I don’t have a very good feel for these things, but we are talking like, Rhino Sex level of bedroom eyes-“

“I get the picture,” Dierta interrupted dryly.

“ -anyway, we could have pulled it off and gotten out of there before she broke the bed with him, but our cover was blown when _he_ shouted out Essek’s name in the middle of the gala. So. You know. Just making sure you have all of the infor-“

“You will be silent now,” Dierta commanded, a weak strand of dunamis adhering Jester’s lips together. 

“That hardly seems necessary-“ Caduceus started before Dierta snapped over the top of him “Respect your elders and shut up.” Caduceus looked so startled at being addressed in such a way he automatically went silent.

Dierta regarded Fjord and Caleb for a moment, both of whom raised their hands in supplication and remained silent. She gave one firm nod and shifted her attention back to Essek. “I see continuing to associate with this group is your self-flagellation, so I will approve of that. What I will not accept is your tarnishing the Den’s reputation. This is now the Den’s problem because you couldn’t find a more subtle way to go about this than acting as, what, a heretic gigolo? You are the _master of whispers_ , Essek, for fuck’s sake.” Verin let out a single, quiet giggle but went silent when she leveled a finger at him. “Essek at least completed his mission, however boorish and disastrous his methods were. You didn’t even get that far, my supposed tactical genius.” 

Dierta’s nostrils flared for a second, looking at the two. “The elders warned me not to birth two children so closely together. They warned me it would be nothing but headache. I should have drowned one of you. How are you fixing this?”

“If I may, Umavi?” Caleb questioned quietly. Briefly taken aback by his soft Zemnian accent and apparent ability for basic decorum, Dierta indicated for him to continue. “Your son and I have been creating a new spell, something that is unknown even to the most accomplished archmages because it is our own design. I believe, given the proper resources, we could infiltrate Dumaran and use this spell to collapse their inner sanctum. If we take out Tonn, we upset their entire hierarchy. Den Thelyss would be exclusively praised for a decisive hit against the Dynasty’s next great enemy in a strike suitable to this esteemed Den’s reputation.”

A hungry glint had entered Dierta’s eyes. “You are the human who presented the beacon, are you not? Known for your bold and decisive moves. Your tactics align with our house’s. What is this grand spell you and Essek have devised to fix all of our woes?”

“I mean only the greatest respect, Umavi,” Caleb whispered, “but even the most secure location could have ears. I do not wish to lose our greatest advantage.” What Caleb was doing was so beautiful it stole Essek’s breath away. This gorgeous, diabolical human. 

Dierta was nodding thoughtfully. “Yes, at least one of you has common sense, very good. I have heard the ways of the Mighty Nein are… frequently unorthodox. You understand this will take a bit more finesse than just making things explode?”

“Of course, Umavi. We will have the utmost discretion knowing we carry Den Thelyss’s name with us,” Caleb reassured, like a liar. 

Dierta reclined back in her seat, her eyes shifting to a softer purple and a smile opening her entire face into a more motherly expression. “This is acceptable to me. Verin, I want you and a squadron of your most elite soldiers guarding your brother and his wards. The Vermalock Wildwood is no place to go without protection.”

“Mother, we can’t just pull back from Bazzoxan for-“

“Mother, we have no need for brute force-“

“Did I stutter? Perhaps you will both consider your actions before wandering into a Lolth-orgy in the future. That will be all.” Her attention turned once more for Fjord. “You are the only one who hasn’t opened your mouth during this ordeal. Have you anything to say?”

“No Ma’am.”

“Good. You and the human are my favorite. Now everyone get out.”

\---

Verin stopped Essek in the hallway once they were well out of their mother’s hearing with a yank on his shoulder. “What the actual fuck, Essek?”

“I should be asking you the same,” Essek growled, acutely sick of the situation. He just wanted to go study books with his brilliant-minded human and make some spells, but that was out of the cards for the foreseeable future. Field work. _UGH_. Essek’s years of carefully schooling his expressions all seemed to evaporate around family. His ears pressed back in ire. “Last I checked, betrayer gods weren’t popping out of the bowels of parties. What were you hoping to accomplish there?”

“We are not talking about me,” Verin said, showing his fangs. “We are talking about you. We are talking about-“ he flailed his hand wildly, encompassing Caleb and the others. “Since when do you work outside of Rosohna? Since when do you do dirty work? Since when do you _socialize_?” 

“You know,” Jester said sweetly, “you ruined our plans and punched Caleb in the face and Yasha _still_ saved your life. You should be nicer to us.” 

“Are you all blind or just braindead?” Verin asked. “He is a heartless snake and will sacrifice you all as soon as it fits his scheme.” 

Essek felt a feral wave of violence building inside him, too shaken by how on the mark that statement would have been even a handful of months ago. As his hand inched towards his components pouch, he was startled to feel the four of the Nein gathering behind him, looming angrily in a show of solidarity. Even his bigger, burlier brother was barely taller than Jester, who was cracking her knuckles comically. 

“Forgive me,” Verin sighed. “That was cruel-“

“Go back to your barracks, Verin,” Essek hissed nastily. “Where the rules are always followed and you can always be right and just. Go back to your black and white world.” 

It was his brother’s turn to be overly expressive, ears perking straight up before flattening against his skull. “Do they know you have to give yourself pep talks in the mirror to get over your imposter syndrome?” Verin asked abruptly. Oh that _utter piece of shit_. 

“I was too busy telling them you couldn’t read until you were twelve,” Essek shot back.

“I was already forming dalliances with my peers at that point. Tell them about _your_ relationship experience, brother.” 

“It is far less pungent than the fact you have uncontrollable gas when you trance.”

“That is a LIE-“

“Children,” Deyzya called out calmly, “you are making a scene.” She flicked both of them on the tip of the ear, a harsh sting that harkened back to their first decades. “Go home before you embarrass yourselves further.”

Verin cleared his throat, straightened his uniform, and gave a stiff bow. “Forgive me for my behavior. I will contact you all when our forces are ready for departure.” He gave a military turn and walked with impeccable posture down the hall. 

“Your brother is a little bit of a dick,” Caleb murmured in the quiet hall. Essek let out a short huff of laughter. 

“I think it’s nice,” Caduceus stated warmly. “Brotherly affection. Nothing better. Mine used to punch me in the kidneys until I would pee blood. Shall we go have some food and unwind?”

\--

“You have GOT to be shitting me,” Beau shouted back at the Xhorhaus where they were passing around platters of baked goods and bottles of wine. “You sparked ANOTHER war?”

“This time with his sexy wiles,” Jester said with an eyebrow waggle. 

“Or being complicit in burning down Tonn’s summer home. Either or,” Essek murmured, sipping straight from the bottle he had claimed as his own to drown the memories of the day. “Regardless, we _will_ have to plan for this next mission.” He gazed mistily at Caleb who was flushed and a few cups in as well. “You are- are an inspiration for how you handled mother, but now we have to deliver on a deus ex machina that doesn’t exist.”

“Weren’t you nerds just spending the last three days making a new spell?” Veth asked, popping a cupcake whole into her mouth. 

“Ja,” Caleb responded. He shared a look with Essek before shifting into a sequence of somatics. In the dim evening, five flame-bright cats leapt onto the table and started swatting and tumbling among the plates, playfully tackling each other before rounding up the dirty dishes and waddling in a procession to the sink. “It’s a prototype right now, but will be a permanent helper spell for displaced families trying to rebuild. Something bright in the world, yes? Not so helpful for exploding evil cults however.” Jester sniffled a little as the others watched the cats play in the suds. 

“She specifically requested no explosions,” Essek reminded, “but I suppose we best get to work on this new spell we have obviously already created.” 

It may have been the wine, but despite the looming threat of travel and the knowledge he would be stuck with his brother for veritable weeks, Essek couldn’t help but feel warm, glancing around his table of friends. Caleb’s eyes glowed as they looked at each other, and his blood sang with the knowledge they were going to make _magic_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys made me giggle so much. Thank you for the lovely comments.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today marked the day I suddenly knew exactly where this story was going. Rejoice with me!

Essek bit back a groan and rubbed at his forehead. He was not hungover, because hangovers were not something he did and he certainly didn’t do them after passing out on a living room floor in a pile of people. He had standards. 

Oh gods. Gravity was shimmying around in his head like a cavorting asshole. He tried to snatch at it with dunamancy and felt a bit like he had done a backflip while lying completely still. _The Nein are a horrible influence_ Essek concluded with a hard swallow. 

His mother must never find out.

He squinted open a cautious eye, muttering a curse at the soft light that leaked over from the kitchen to kick him straight in the retina. The majority of the Mighty Nein looked as rough as he felt, spilled across the scattered cushions on the living room floor. Veth was near his head, curled around a table leg like it was her only tether to the ground. Beau and Yasha were a scowling thrombus in the middle of the room, muscular arms wrapped around each other while Jester perched on Yasha’s thigh, intently sketching. Though he could not see him, Essek felt Fumpkin at the small of his back, rumbling a deep purr.

Essek’s hand flexed, registering that his fingers were sifting through thick, soft hair. Oh. Caleb’s face was buried in his stomach. Oh. Well that was nice at least. At some point when his faculties were back in functioning order he would have an appropriate spiral into panic and over-analysis, but for the time being Essek’s hand continued stroking. It earned a contented hum and a nuzzle from Caleb that caused the muscles of his stomach to spasm pleasantly. 

The peaceful half consciousness was ruined when Beau jolted up in response to the sound of someone being violently ill. She kicked Yasha in the process, who grunted in surprise, rolled over, and sent Jester toppling across the floor. “You good?” Beau called blearily into the morning air.

“Just wine, not sea water,” came Fjord’s miserable and baffling reply from somewhere in the next room. Beau gave a thumbs up to the room at large and toppled back onto her cushion. 

“We should start preparing for the day,” Caduceus stated softly in the tone of a man who was used to dealing with hungover teammates. He placed steaming cups of tea next to each pile of person, working his way around the room. Essek hastily casted a prestidigitation with his non-Caleb hand and a hoarse murmur because he still had some presence of mind to accommodate his bottomless font of vanity. He felt his hair shift back into place right before Caduceus entered his line of sight to offer a soft smile. 

“Not our best accommodations for a guest, I apologize. How are you feeling?”

“I am perfectly fine, thank you,” Essek replied in the most polished voice he could muster. It must not have been very convincing, as Caduceus gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, careful not to dislodge Caleb. 

“It is understandable,” he murmured soothingly. “Sometimes, you have to accept family for a flow of roots it is, and nourishment comes from the rhizomes.” He shuffled away as Essek squinted at his retreating form, trying to puzzle out if he was still impaired or if that just made no goddamn sense. 

“Caduceus _knows_ things,” Beau confided, having flopped her head his way to watch his struggles. “Also, what the fuck man. You are all coiffed and shit, just like that? No one wakes up in the morning looking like that. You are gonna give us all a complex as we travel together. Caleb! Wake up, you’re drooling on Essek.”

Caleb muttered something uncharitable sounding in Zemnian and rolled over so he was no longer cuddled against Essek. This was not an improvement, Essek thought dourly. He forced himself to sit up now that there was no motivation to continue dozing. Frumpkin gave a displeased ‘mrrp’ at the loss of heat and trotted over to curl up against Caleb, lucky bastard. 

_Gods_.

“Have Jester contact me once you all have made preparations and packed. We should meet near the Firmament Gardens before nightfall- the Penumbra foothills are safest when travelled at dusk.” Beau gave another bleary thumbs up as Essek levered himself to his feet. That was not better. His toes briefly lifted off the ground but that was _definitely_ not better. His feet thump back to the floor and he took several rigid, purposeful steps over to the table to sit down for a moment. 

“Would you like to accept the Traveler into your life this morning?” Jester asked cheerfully (and loudly), wiggling the fingers of her outstretched hands as she approached his chair. Essek suspected the haughty look he was going for just looked vaguely nauseated, so tilted his head forward into her hands. Lesser restoration tingled through his limbs, calmed his stomach, and improved his entire outlook on life. Bless clerics. He took his first deep breath of the morning without regret. 

“Thank you. Please let me know if you need help today, otherwise I will see you all this evening.” He paused at her bright grin. “Yes?”

“Oh nothing,” she sing-songed, picking her sketchbook back up to idly tap it against her thigh. “He probably would have enjoyed waking up next to you, but I know you are busy. Another time perhaps.”

Essek blinked rapidly as she skipped off to investigate the breakfast Caduceus was starting to plate. Add that statement to the pile of things he needed to have a quite panic attack over in the near future. Jester wasn’t wrong about how busy he was, however. There was a lot to accomplish in the next few hours, and he couldn’t afford to sit in the Xhorhaus in dazed introspection. He collected his mantle from near the door and headed out into the morning, feeling oddly as if he was doing a walk of shame. 

\---

Beau and Jester kept giving him _looks_ all morning, and it was starting to freak Caleb out. When he tried to ask Caduceus about it, all he got was “life is just so neat sometimes. Really wonderful.” He associated with the weirdest fucking people. 

\---

“So,” Beau started conversationally, sidling up to one of the Aurora Watch waiting with the Nein in the gardens. He was at military attention for no goddamn reason. “This forest we’re going to has giant spiders and shit, right? I could really use something to stretch my muscles on this fieldtrip.” She gave a swing of her staff for emphasis.

The guard spared her a brief glance before staring back into middle distance. “And shit,” he confirmed with a level of disdain that brought her back to the days of early Essek. “It would perhaps be better to spar with your party members and leave the wildlife to us. The Vermalock Wildwood is not a training ground for low level adventurers.”

Beau felt a grin tugging at her face. “Buddy. Let me teach you a thing about the Mighty Nein. _We_ will be covering _your_ ass. As far as I’m concerned, we’re on babysitting detail because matron Thelyss wanted to ensure our whole party got a serving of punishment. You aren’t protecting us from shit.”

His only response was a disdainful snort. Alright then. 

“Let’s test it out a bit, huh?” Beau offered, holstering the staff on her horse’s saddle and turning into a Patient Defense stance. “Come at me, bro.”

The guard shot a glance towards Verin who was too busy glaring at the ground to acknowledge the situation. “We don’t have time for this,” the guard settled on. “We need to be ready and at attention for when the Shadowhand arrives.”

There was a distinct reverence in how he said the title that was cute as hell. 

“Essek is still speaking with his information network to deputize a few of his higher informants. He doesn’t want the whisper web dormant while he is gone. His words, not mine,” Caleb contributed from where he was seated in the grass, reading in the light of a globule. Verin rolled his eyes while several of the waiting guard broke rank to wander over to the wizard. “I’m sure you have at least a few minutes yet. He mentioned clarifying some details about the stronghold we are heading towards while he was at it.” Several voices started up, asking Caleb further about what he had heard.

The guard facing Beau seemed to thaw a little bit and finally succeeded in catching Verin’s gaze. Verin gave an exasperated sigh and a ‘go ahead’ motion. The guard turned back to Beau with a curt nod before removing his chitinous helmet and outer armor, leaving him in padded leathers. 

Beau had naturally stuck Essek with Caleb in the squishy wizard category, so hadn’t paid much mind to his slight build. It was surreal to see a martial warrior in front of her with the same willowy frame. He was even shorter than Jester and had about a third of her muscle mass. “Are the Thelysses the beefcakes of the drow? Why are you all so tiny- shit!”

In a blur, the guard charged towards her with a pivoting backhand she barely deflected. The limb that slide along her arm turned to gray smoke, and Beau felt her arms yanked backwards as a foot launched into the small of her back. Using the momentum to roll into a forward somersault, she flung the actual drow over her head into the grass and managed to land a stunning strike to his solar plexus with a cycle kick. She had barely gained her feet as another shadow fist clocked her in the cheek, sending her sprawling sideways. 

Beau sat up slowly, wiping at the blood from her split lip. The guard, with a wheeze and the shadow melting into his chest, also sat up. Slowly, they grinned at each other. 

“Beauregard,” she introduced.

“Calzen,” he responded. “I’ve not fought against a monk before.”

“I’ve seen an Echo Knight, but he kicked a lot of our asses,” Beau admitted with a grin. “Rematch?”

“Already bleeding. Beauregard is clearly in full form. Are the rest of your ready?” She glanced over to see Essek making his way to the courtyard. It was a bit jarring to see him in full Shadowhand mode. She had grown used to his social awkwardness, the mild uncertainties he let them see, and the smooth but grounded gait he adopted around them. She knew what he looked like hopelessly smitten and devastatingly hungover. She hadn’t realized how much he had relaxed his guard around them until faced with this throwback persona hovering with a cool expression and raised chin. There was no doubt that this man was on the Bright Queen’s inner council. The Aurora Watch responded in kind, coming to attention and falling into rank, their sole focus on the Shadowhand. 

Following obediently behind him was- well it was sure a thing. 

“Oh, of fucking course you bring an arborscythe.” Verin muttered, exasperated. 

Whatever Essek mount was- arborscythe?- it looked like someone had tried for a diresquirrel but the only raw materials they had to work with were snakes and knives. It’s large black eyes and cute little rounded ears were at odds with the horrorshow of teeth in its wedged head. While the majority of the fluid body was covered with muted purple scales, the big bushy tail appeared to be composed of blades and spines. It chittered a greeting and Beau half expected to hear a baby start crying. 

“Oh, it looks like it would want much more sporting food than you guys,” Caduceus reassured the Empire horses who looked about ready to shit out their souls. 

“Right,” Verin stated, unimpressed with the whole situation. “Aurora Watch, mount up.” They remained stationary until Verin gritted out, “at your leave, Shadowhand.”

Gods was this ever a mess of a power play. Beau had gotten to know Essek well enough to know he was just flexing a bit and tensions would hopefully relax once they were all on the trail, but the brothers seriously just needed to give each other wet willies like normal siblings. She’s have words with him if he didn’t get his head out of his ass soon. Or throw a pretty wizard at him to distract him from his douchery. 

Essek made a complicated hand gesture that apparently meant something to the soldiers who saluted as one and went to fetch their own mounts. Which turned out to be some sort of hell-chicken/dinosaur chimera. “Cassoracious,” Calzen whispered. “Both are native to the Vermalock. You aren’t, uh, terribly attached to the horses, are you?”

They did look pretty unrideable at that moment, shaking and sweating around the swarm of predators. 

“Forgive me,” Essek spoke smoothly. “I had forgotten your moorbounders were up north. Do you have spare mounts, Verin? We can pick up more in Deepriver Mine.”

“The standard five,” Verin said, eyeing the remainder of the group.

“Jester, can you and Veth double up? They look hulking, but the cassoracious are mostly feathers and can’t handle too much weight.” Jester and Veth shared a fistbump and wandered over to one of the birds that was staring murder at them. “Widogast, with me.”

“Ja,” Caleb agreed easily, snapping his book shut and climbing to his feet. 

Ah, _that_ made a lot more sense than Essek forgetting a detail. Beau watched Caleb greet the arborscythe while Essek packed his mantle so one of the spikes wouldn’t gouge out Caleb’s eye. Beau gave a snort before wandering off to fall in hate with her own murder chicken. That tension was gonna snap at any minute, and she couldn’t wait for it to be twice as awkward with Essek’s brother as witness. 

“You look like a Chad,” she informed the feathered monstrosity who gave a warbling screech in return. Very Chad of him. She was unreasonably excited for what was ahead. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb’s sleep Zemnian translated to “I’m drooling _over_ him- learn your prepositions.”
> 
> This has been a really fun exercise in daily writing, but the next update will be a couple days. Work calls until Monday, I’m sorry guys :(


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man, we needed to get out of Rosohna so I could stop feeling weird about typing “Coronas”. Also, we are so far out of Essek week now that it is just kind of a stand alone story at this point I guess. Sorry this one is so long- I kept wanting to add just one more thing…

Miraculously, their menagerie of a group left somewhat on time. By the time they would make it out of the Ghostlands, the local rocs would be roosting but the gloomstalkers wouldn’t yet be active. It was a delicate balance Verin was used to striking on his trips to and from Rosohna, but there were several chaotic variables in this party that were difficult to account for. 

Said chaotic variables appeared to be enjoying their crash course in cassoracious riding. Verin motioned for Viedrar and Igug to pull ahead and scout the entrance to the Ghostlands, seeing as any nasties in a 3 mile radius would hear them coming. The tiefling and halfling were a flailing mess on the bird they were valiantly trying to race through the streets of the Coronas. The human monk, their apparent opponent, was faring far better, though had thus far destroyed three carts of wares and had run over a half-orc. Another gesture and Calzen dropped back to pay for the damages. 

The party’s own half-orc, who Verin had erroneously assumed was the level-headed one, was spending the ride poking at his mount’s various colorful waddles to see which prod sent the bird into a biting, hissing rage (it was all of them). With a sigh of building resignation, Verin motioned Aulanonia and An’rak over to talk about husbandry before the idiot lost a hand. 

The remaining two at least seemed to be avoiding conflict with their birds. The giant barbarian was riding with a stoicism of deep concentration and an occasional murmur to her mount. The bird was the only one of the group who looked entirely cowed and submissive. That really shouldn’t have been possible for the species. The firbolg on the other hand (whose coloring alone was going to be a nightmare for camouflage), seemed to be _gossiping_ with his mount. The bird would intermittently make squawks, thrumming, and chatters as if laying out its complaints about the group. 

They hadn’t even left the city and Verin felt like he was trying to herd toddlers. He was of course aware of the rumors of the dynamic mercenaries that had put down roots in the heart of Xhorhas, but despite the destructive swath they had left in Bazzoxan, he had assumed the stories were exaggerated. He simply could not reconcile this group of hyperactive idiots with the diplomatic liaisons and fearsome warriors they should have been based on their deeds. Nor could he fathom how his brother had tolerated extended exposure to them. 

Essek, even when they had been kids, was ever the reserved introvert. He could play at being cordial, but only truly enjoyed company when he had complete control of a situation and was about 7 steps ahead of everyone else around him. As Verin watched the tiefling and halfling guide their bird to run on the side of a building, breaking a window and kicking a washer woman in the face, he simply had to wonder _what the fuck_. 

Through terrible desensitization, Essek looked unbothered by the commotion and chaos, apparently distracted by the conversation he was having with the human arcanist as they wound through the shouting foot traffic on the arborscythe. This Essek, who tolerated the casual contact of sharing a saddle and wore a small but sincere smile instead of a cool and distant smirk, was a near stranger. Verin had no idea how to handle this person. That was not only disconcerting, but also dangerous where Essek was concerned.

“You look like you just took a sip of a shitty beer dude. Why the sour face?” Verin glanced over to see the monk had pulled up next to him, apparently choosing a more sedate pace as they stepped out onto the western Hallowed Path to enter the Ghostlands. 

“You are done racing then?” he deflected. In the distance, he saw Viedrar and Igug release their echoes. He motioned An’rak forward to join them and circled a motion to Calzen, who swung around to the flank of the arborscythe as a sentinel to the distracted wizards. 

“Oh hey, with the disdain I see the family resemblance. And yes, Chad definitely took the trophy.” She gave her cassoracious an affectionate pat, inciting a screech and a pivot of the beast’s head that allowed it to look backwards and snap at her face. She dodged easily, looking enamored. 

“But Rainbows came first in our hearts!” The tiefling cried, spinning the bird in exuberant circles as the halfling let out a hoarse, triumphant scream. Aulanonia was already moving towards the decaying hands crawling out of the ground in response to the commotion when the firbolg looked up from his gossip.

“No, that’s rude, hands to yourself.” His staff glowed briefly and Aulanonia stopped her rush with an incline of her head as the rotten limbs retracted back underground with a shriek. 

“While I appreciate the military precision happening here, relax a bit, huh?” the monk continued. “We’ve got this. Save your efforts for bigger bads.” Verin glanced skeptically back to the arborscythe where Essek was turned half around in the saddle to see the human’s excited gesticulations. Both quite clearly didn’t know or didn’t care that Calzen was cleaving in half a skeletal wretch scuttling on all fours right beside them, hair fully obscuring its face. 

Ah. Didn’t care apparently. After the creature stopped twitching, Essek, still turned in the saddle, loosening the reins to allow the arborscythe to snap up one of the halves in its nightmare jaws and hork it down in two jerking swallows. Blessed Luxon. 

The monk followed his line of sight and misinterpreted his revolted expression as they all moved into a swifter pace. “Oh, I known, they’re nauseating right? It’s honestly a blessing to have Essek with us though. Caleb would try to talk to _us_ about magical theory before this. Now we can just throw the nerds at each other and let them geek out, leaving us alone.” 

Verin couldn’t help his huff of laughter despite the surreal wrongness of Essek apparently having a _friend_. The human had accomplished what all the other dunamantic wizards in Xhorhas had not. “You’ve suffered through ‘the staggering expanse of possibilities’ rant then?”

The human managed to punch him cordially in the arm despite the bumpy pace they were setting. His armor vibrated with the force. “That’s nothing compared to ‘just needing two more hours, Beauregard, this is…is groundbreaking information’,” she mimicked in a truly horrendous approximation of a Zemnian accent, “and then never hearing _shit_ about what that information actually meant in any sort of real world application. Wizards are the fucking _worst_. Just shut up and punch something already, am I right?”

“You seem well versed in this aggravation,” Verin mused, feeling a small spark of camaraderie for the human- Beauregard. “Are the two of you related?”

She snorted, the noise causing her mount to jump in the air and kick in irritation. She kept her seat admirably. She honestly wouldn’t make a bad soldier. “Gods no. Caleb is like a surrogate brother to me now, but I didn’t know him before we started traveling together. I solidly wanted to kill him for a good month. Now it’s only like 50% of the time that I fantasize about ringing his neck.” 

Verin gave a bark of laughter, relaxing for what felt like the first time in four days. “Count yourself lucky you weren’t saddled with that mess at birth.”

Beauregard groaned, throwing her head back as if pained. “I don’t even want to _think_ about it. I assume even at age 5 Caleb was very seriously lecturing his toys about the arcane.”

Verin had to huff another laugh at the mental image. “Essek was always obsessed with studying, but I don’t think he became truly insufferable until his twenties when his grasp of dunamancy ‘so clearly surpassed anything we have witnessed before, in this life or others’. That was about the time mother started taking note, and the following decades were a scheming spiral of politics, ‘for the good of the Den’ of course.”

It was only as Beauregard gave a sympathetic hum that Verin straightened in his saddle and looked closely at her features. He _never_ discussed family- it was political suicide. He wasn’t an idiot, but he could never keep track of what innocent statement could be weaponized by another Den. Essek in particular was a very popular topic for people to approach him about. Watching her shrewd eyes, he felt the Friends spell crack. 

Spinning, Verin caught the glance of the arcanist.

For whatever information she was harvesting, Beauregard seemed surprised to see the interaction. Right, just the wizard then. Verin gave a swift kick to his cassoracious, earning a deep, angered hum before it charged towards the arborscythe. His sword was in his hand before he even registered he had reached for it. He barely began to raise it when an intense pressure locked his limbs in place. The sword fell from his grasp but continued to float along with the trotting mounts. He turned to Essek, whose eyes glinted with cold fury. 

“I meant no harm,” the wizard stated in a soft, flat voice. “I simply thought you would benefit from an extra push to get to know us. Beauregard is very engaging if you give her the chance.”

“Caleb, man,” Beauregard had rushed up behind him and joined the conversation just in time to sound exasperated. Despite himself, Verin still liked her. He refused to be patronized by every wizard he came in contact with, however.

He disregarded the humans entirely and turned to Essek. “Keep that Empire piece of shit out of my head or I’m gonna take his.” Essek’s expression somehow became colder and the pressure built just to the point of being uncomfortable to breathe. 

(“Verin, _dude_ , read the room,” was a whisper on his periphery.)

“You will not address him that way just because you cannot fight off a simple modified cantrip.” Gods, Verin wanted to punch Essek in his condescending face.

“There’s some weird shifting in the hills,” An’rak interrupted, rejoining the group and warily taking in the situation. “We would do well to be on our guard.”

Verin spent one more childish moment glaring at his brother before he caught the movement An’rak was talking about. Very large movement. Very bad movement. Oh Luxon. 

“Essek, release me,” he demanded urgently. Whatever other (extensive) personal failings Essek had, the bastard was incredibly intelligent. Hearing the tone, he dropped the gravity bind immediately and turned to look at what was catching Verin’s attention. Genius prodigy or no, he wouldn’t be fast enough to react to the hulking shift of stone. Verin acted on instinct, yanking Essek out of the saddle as his echo sprang to form and latched onto the asshole wizard friend and pulled. The four of them toppled to the ground and skimmed over the rocks, a thin barrier of levitation saving their skin as the arborscythe veered in surprise and through sheer luck missed the clamping jaws of the horizonback breaching out of the rubble. 

“Hey guys! We decided Fjord’s deathturkey is named Avantika. Cause he’s riding her but we know who holds the rei- MOTHER OF FUCK.” The halfling and tiefling had joined their cluster just in time to see the massive eruption as the horizonback skittered with unsettling, supernatural speed out of the ground and shook off boulders from its mountainous shell. It was easily the largest creature Verin had ever seen and gave off waves of rancid rot as it reared back for another attack.

“Okay, so this is fun,” called the firbolg. “This thing’s not undead, but it’s not _not_ undead? It’s doing some crazy stuff to my senses. The verdict is it’s bad though.” Sickly green shot from his staff but seemed to flow harmlessly off of the marred carapace. He cheerfully flipped off the tortoise. 

Acknowledging that blatantly obvious tidbit of information, Verin struggle to his knees before Essek grabbed him and the human and pulsed them all backwards in a nauseating blur of movement that narrowly avoided a gargantuan stomping foot. Verin’s echo was not so lucky and dispersed within the billowing clouds of dust. That attack had been far too fast for the beast’s size. A flurry of arrows retaliated only to ricochet off of the tortoise’s hide, seemingly unnoticed. A bizarre, mechanized spectral confection bonked harmlessly against the beast’s head. 

“Not good, NOT good,” huffed An’rak. She had attempted a launch her massive bugbear form off of Igug’s boost to hamstring the monstrosity but had instead simply broke her sword. 

“Are we running?” Asked the half-orc who came skidding up on newly-dubbed-Avantika. “We’re running, right?”

“Yes, fall back!” Verin called to the general vicinity. If the tortoise didn’t manage to finish them off, the other denizens of the Ghostlands certainly would after hearing all of the commotion. He watched as the barbarian and outlying knights heeded his warning and took off from the conflict while Calzen, Igug, and An’rak sent their echoes dashing in the same direction.

“Caleb, I may be able to restrain him briefly, but I’ll need you to get us far away and quickly, yes?” Essek whispered. As he spoke the tortoise reared up and slammed its feet into the ground, sending shock waves through the surrounding rubble. They were spared from the quakes by virtue of the levitation, but all of the cassoracious jolted and faceplanted into the stone, scattering their riders. 

“Ja, okay okay okay, I’ve got this. For twelve? Twenty? Fuck, okay, I’ve got this,” the wizard raised his arms in an intricate set of crossing movements before throwing his right arm forward. With a muttered word, a disc of light rotated beyond him, opening a shimmering portal that the echoes, monk, firbolg, tiefling, halfling, and half-orc all redirected towards. Seeing it open, Essek turned back to the horizonback and spread the fingers on both hands out in front of him. 

A deep, rumbling bass pulsed through the area as the false twilight went black. Behind the tortoise, a distortion of space seemed to ignite into a halo of stretched light, framing a pitch black centralized orb. The tortoise’s frame and the surrounding rocks seemed to stretch, blurring towards the spatial anomaly. Letting out a guttural roar as fissures cracked across its carapace, the horizonback attempted to lunge but appeared locked in place by the pull of the vortex behind it. 

“I can’t believe that worked. Go. Go!” Essek demanded, not taking his eyes off of the distortion. Verin turned, snagged the reins of the prone birds as he sprinted, and dragged them towards the portal. In front of him, his remaining echo knights shifted into the place of their dashing echoes and catapulted the 500 feet the arcane gate afforded them before rapidly forming a rear guard to the mercenaries waiting beyond. As soon as he was through, Verin turned to see the human catch the darting arborscythe before snagging Essek around the midriff and hoisting them both onto the mount. There was one final, unearthly roar from the horizonback before the wizards were through the portal and the disc dissolved in a dispersion of light. 

There was a single moment of silence where the group stared disbelievingly at each other before an eruption announced the departure of Essek’s gravitational fuckery in the distance. 

“Ride now, freak out later,” Verin commanded, leading them all at a full dash into the true night spreading across the Penumbra range.

\---

Galloping on a giant scaled squirrel for hours on end was by far the most uncomfortable mode of travel Caleb had experienced. Its bizarre, serpentine movement took a good half hour to acclimate to, and he had squeezed the breath out of Essek on more than one occasion as he started to slip during the abrupt directional changes it seemed to make with the complete whimsy of a masochistic asshole. He was chafed in unconventional and intimate areas, and truly had only stayed in the saddle as long as he had because of the threat of being skewered by the barbs in its tail if he fell. 

By the time the first scraggly, crimson leafed trees came into view, he was about to take his chances just going on foot. Thankfully, the group tapered off into a leisurely walk, allowing their mounts to take in heaving mouthfuls of air. Too exhausted to be embarrassed by the move, Caleb leaned forward and thunked his forehead against Essek’s shoulder. 

“How many days of travel is this again?” he asked despondently. 

He felt more than heard Essek’s soft laughter. “Four or five to get there, though what we just did should have been the worst of it. We can’t do a full sprint through the Vermaloc.”

“I will not have inner thighs by the end of this journey if we do,” said Caleb morosely, to which Essek responded with a soft ‘ermph’ and nothing more. “Tell me, why couldn’t we just have you teleport us? I miss those days. We should bring that back. For nostalgia.” Essek remained conspicuously silent, and Caleb sat up, the aching in his everything suddenly forgotten in the face of his curiosity. “It is, in fact, remarkably inefficient to do this on foot when we have magical means.” Still silence. “Essek?”

Caleb craned his head over Essek’s shoulder, trying to get a look at his face. There was a very real possibility that was a blush. Fascinating. 

“It was the Bright Queen’s decision,” Essek responded at last after a glance around ensured they were too far away from their companions to be heard. “She felt I could use some character building. I believe her exact words were ‘Your competence makes me forget how young you are, Shadowhand, and how little you’ve seen. I matured through hard fought travel through the land, learning the people and places. Perhaps it is time to take you out of your books for some real life experience if you are getting _urges_ to be so rash.’”

Caleb managed to tamper down the laughter bubbling in his chest. “Was that her exact verbiage? Urges?” In a very undignified move for a person of his position, Essek jabbed an elbow into Caleb’s stomach. “I’m only asking if you got a lecture about teenage horniness in front of a national council from someone who is a combination great grandmother and religious figure.”

“You are not humorous. This is horrific, and also _the Mighty Nein’s fault_ if I may remind you. The high council’s opinion means nothing to me, but this is over a solid week of no decent accommodations following days of tedium. Bad food. Bad beds. No heated baths. It is barbaric.” 

“The harshest of punishments Her Eminence could have meted out,” Caleb agreed, though he suspected mirth was making its way into his voice. 

“Hey!” Veth called out from where the others had stopped. “Stop canoodling on the murdersquirrel and circle up!” 

Caleb tenderly dismounted the arborscythe, rolling his eyes as he hobbled while Essek floated down effortlessly. It was weirdly more grandiose to see him floating in just his fitted pants and tunic. Perhaps Caleb had grown too used to the fluttering mantle. Regardless, he envied the man for not requiring any movement from his legs.

They had barely made it to the circle of their party under the thin canopy when the female drow spoke up eagerly. “That was Event Horizon, right? Holy shit, I’ve only had lectures on it. None of us have seen it in action. That was _so fucking cool_. What the hell is your magic threshold that you beat out the strength check on a horizonback? That’s pinnacle technique for Graviturgists obviously, but I bet you’re creating your own features for the class at this point. We’ve all heard of your modifications to the Manifest Echo for Graviturgists- do you think the reverse is possible? Modifying Graviturgy features for Echo Knights?”

“Aulanonia,” Verin called, clearly embarrassed. 

“Come off it, boss,” the orc murmured good naturedly. “That was sick as hell, and I want to hear his answer too.”

Apparently in high spirits from the battle camaraderie and the gentle stroking of his ego, Essek inclined his head. “It was Event Horizon, though it was sheer luck it actually took. I was just looking to slow him so that our fleeing would accomplish anything.” Essek’s prolonged exposure to Jester also appeared to be training him to endure verbal onslaughts. “You flatter me with the praise, and while I think there are fascinating implications for cross-disciplinary application, it is a better conversation for a lecture hall I think, not the Vermaloc.” He glanced over to where another of the drow Echo Knights had skewered a scorpion the length of a forearm to a tree with a dagger. “We will all reconvene in the Marble Tomes after this is all over and revisit gravituric theory, no?” 

Fucking sweet,” the female bugbear murmured from where she was lounging against a non-scorpioned tree. 

“All things considered,” Essek continued, “the entire party did remarkably well. The coordination your group has is impeccable.” He looked directly at Verin. “It was well executed. We were lucky to have you all with us."

Verin, who until this point had been prickly and standoffish, seemed to light up. Ego (or perhaps pathological need for validation) was apparently genetic.

“Yeah yeah,” Beau broke in, “everyone who doesn’t have punching as their only option for fighting against a mountain was a real badass. Can we talk about how fucked up that thing was? It was the size of a village but was moving with a speed of like… a really fast thing.”

“And it smelled unnatural,” Caduceus contributed.

“And it broke Rainbows’ nose,” Jester whined before turning to coo over the crack in her bird’s beak.

Verin nodded, crossing his arms. “It was not the usual fair of the Ghostlands. It shouldn’t have been undetectable until we were right on top of it either. I’ll include it in my report tonight, in case there is a bigger threat brewing right on Rosohna’s doorstep.”

“Report?” Jester questioned while stroking at Rainbows, who was making pitiful peeping noises, milking the situation. “Who are you reporting to?”

“Mother, of course. She will relay any information she thinks is pertinent.”

“Oh my gosh, you call your momma every night as well? I always try to call my momma, I miss her so much, she’s so beautiful and nice and smart. I always got the sense drow weren’t as bonded to their parents but your momma seems _really cool_ I can see why-“

Verin, looking overwhelmed, wandered deeper into the grove to help his group with evening preparations as Jester followed, chattering in his shadow. 

“We’d best set up for the night as well,” Fjord stated. “Should we do the dome? It won’t fit a group this large."

“Leomund’s Tiny Hut will suffice,” Essek said. “Verin and his group will have their own camping accommodations.”

“Perfect!” Veth replied. “Let’s get cracking then! I can’t feel my ass and want to go to sleep. Here,” she passed Essek a pot, which he stared at as if it were a bomb, “help Yasha prepared some grub. Cay-Cay and I will find some sticks for a fire.”

“There are leaves and twigs all around us-“ Caleb started reasonably before being yanked deeper into the underbrush.

“Only the finest kindling for our fire!” Veth called over her shoulder before ushering him deeper into the cover.

“Veth, what-“

She turned once they were out of sight and earshot from the budding camp. “Are you okay?”

He blinked down at her, the darkvision from his transmutation stone allowing him to see only open and earnest concern on her face. “Of course. I’m a little sore from the ride, but didn’t take any major damage from the battle.”

She regarded him for a moment. “I meant with Essek. I just wanted to make sure you are comfortable with things, and this is what you want.”

“Is WHAT what I want?” Caleb asked, baffled.

Veth glared, as if he was being purposefully dense. “What would you say was the best thing to happen to you this week?” She asked as a complete non sequitur.

“Our spell,” Caleb replied without hesitation, the warmth of their success still pulsing through his veins. It was not just the spell they had brought to life, but the possibility, the _promise_ , of more to follow.

“And if we weren’t traveling right now, who would you want to be spending time with?”

“Veth, what is the point of this? You know we would be studying further. We have so many ideas-“

“Can that perfect recall of yours describe the details of the Ghostlands we passed through?"

He shifted uneasily, thrown off by her rapid-fire and seemingly unconnected questions. “To be honest, I wasn’t paying as much attention to the surroundings-“

“If you had to make out with one person in the group right now, who would it be?”

Caleb stopped short, blinking down at her in surprise. Oh. Oh no. Oh _no_. Caleb’s attraction had always been an insidious thing. He could acknowledge when someone was physically beautiful, but his desire for someone spawned more from respect and admiration than physical attraction. That said, he rarely understood what he was feeling until the other party made the first move. Well _fuck_.

“Yeah, welcome to the party champ. Aside from Essek himself, you were probably the only one who was unaware. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting yourself into before you spent five days grinding on each other on the back of a hairless squirrel.”

Despite the sudden and devastating knowledge that he now wanted to utterly wreck Essek, that was about the least sexy way to frame the situation he had ever heard.

“Look,” Veth said softly, taking a more sincere tone. “I get that he is attractive and you two have a lot in common. I just want you to be careful. You’ve stumbled upon the one person who has a larger monkeypaw of psychological issues than you, and we still don’t fully know or understand Essek’s motives. I’m not telling you what to do, I just want you to be careful. Also, I intend to give him my best shovel talk, just so you know.” She turned to head back to camp before glancing over her shoulder. “I see you spiraling into laments about him being unobtainable. Knock it off. Once you decide to act on it, it will happen. He’s a hormonal mess right now in case you haven’t noticed.”

Caleb spent another moment in the underbrush by himself, flabbergasted. Hormonal mess? What did that even look like on Essek? He was smiling more, Caleb supposed. Trying to interpret people’s emotions was a living nightmare.

Caleb snapped Frumpkin into being, taking comfort in the cat rubbing against his leg before Frumpkin gave a low growl at the underbrush and shimmied his way up to Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb probably would have spent longer processing the information Veth had just dumped on him if he hadn’t felt a something with about twelve too many legs skitter over his foot. He could just as easily have an emotional crisis back at the campsite, he decided.

Returning to the rest of the group, he saw Yasha demonstrating slicing a large tuber with a sword and Essek watching, looking deeply skeptical. At hearing Caleb’s return, he glanced up with a small smile. The dappled moonshadows from the foliage played across his face, curving along his straight nose and high cheekbones and causing his eyes to glow softly. WHELP. Caleb swallowed dryly, turning away just as he caught Essek’s confused, troubled expression, smile dropping.

Gods fucking damn it. If this ruined their ability to work with each other, Caleb may actually get in a shouting match with his own dick.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wizards are having emotions y'all. 
> 
> Some lightheartedness before we faceplant into real plot, oops!

There was something uniquely uncomfortable, Essek discovered, about going through his evening routines in a group where he was used to being solitary. He was suddenly self-conscious about something as mundane as washing his face and combing his hair, helped in no small part by the contrast of Fjord going straight from eating dinner to face planting into his bedroll, Veth muttering to herself judgmentally while making painfully direct eye contact, and Jester proclaiming in abject delight “are we going to have a spa day every day with Essek now? Glamping! Whoo!” All were distressing responses to basic hygiene. 

Essek had sleepwear in a pocket dimension he had been contemplating on how to change into with any sort of modesty, but decided to forgo it entirely and sleep in his clothes like a vagrant. Beau was currently mocking him for moisturizing his hands; he couldn’t imagine she would be more accepting of something as indulgent as sleepwear. It was a miracle the entire group didn’t just sleep naked he supposed. 

Getting any sort of trance was going to be the next big hurdle. Without the aid of alcohol, there were just so many _noises_ and so little space with the group. Even attempting to be quiet as each settled into Caleb’s dome, there was breathing and grumbling and shifting that had his ears twitching every two or three seconds. It was partially this that had him stating, “I need far less rest than the rest of you. I am happy to take first watch.”

“You are a good fucking addition to this group, even with your dorky fastidiousness,” Beau proclaimed with gusto before falling backwards dramatically to press her face into Jester’s hair and kick at Fjord’s calves. On Jester’s other side, Yasha gave a quiet smile.

“Wake me for the next watch then,” she offered in a hushed voice before settling down in the pile of Nein. 

As if a switch had been flipped, the entire cloud of chaos that was the Mighty Nein was asleep and in various amplitudes of snoring. He looked over the group- his friends. His _friends_ \- and suffered through a wave of protective affection. For all their teasing, there was something intimate and wonderful about getting to see them in the quieter commonplace moments. There was probably a metaphor to be made about Essek being perched solitary on a small boulder at the edge of the dome, but he was honestly too happy to be out of their line of scrutiny to get introspective over it. 

It was only partial solitude in any case. A short time into his watch, he felt a warm pressure at his thigh and glanced down to find Frumpkin seated next to him, eyes very seriously surveying the surrounding woods but tail curling to wrap behind Essek. 

“I appreciate the extra pair of eyes,” he confided to Frumpkin, indulging in scratching under his chin. Frumpkin’s soft purr was a soothing addition to the other small noises of the night as Essek thoughts inevitably turned to Caleb. 

Essek had, rather predictably, ruined something. 

Essek was getting his second advanced degree in self-sabotage at this point, but generally he was at least aware of his poor decisions when he was making them. He glanced back to where Caleb was bedded down with the others, fast asleep but with a small frown still wrinkling his brow as it had earlier in the evening. Even troubled, his face did something to warm Essek’s stomach and fill him with a jittery sort of anticipation. He allowed himself three breaths of enjoying the sensation and Caleb’s image before he tore his gaze away, feeling stalkerish. 

They had spent the entire evening riding together, mulling over their next creation, quietly planning the up upcoming infiltration, and at times, gleefully talking shit. It had been... good. As someone who valued time alone, it was a foreign sensation to crave endless time with another person. It was perhaps unhealthy just how much Essek enjoyed being around Caleb, but he couldn’t remember anyone or anything beyond his research that had ever so thoroughly captivated him. 

Which made Caleb’s sudden stoicism all the more jarring. As soon as he had come back into the camp, he had been evasive and withdrawn, barely making eye contact. 

Had Essek said something to upset Caleb? Emotional manipulation and transactional bargaining had been mainstays of his life up until meeting the Nein, and while he had been trying desperately to avoid them, he did occasionally slip up. He honestly couldn’t recall saying anything to that effect though, and it was driving him mad. He was trying so earnestly to be the person the Nein- _Caleb_ \- hoped he would be, but it was a stumbling, uncomfortable process, and one riddled with little instances of not evening recognizing his behavior was unhealthy or hurtful. 

Whatever the problem, he would have to address it in the morning. Essek had been coping with being drawn to Caleb’s mind for virtually as long as he had known the man, and he was uncomfortably aware that this attraction now encompassed Everything Caleb- his mind, his voice, his eyes, his rare smiles. As much as he wanted to avoid whatever awkwardness this appeal had bred, Caleb was paramount to the upcoming plan with Tonn. Essek couldn’t jeopardize that just because he was having a flood of emotions like a child. 

Several moments passed. Frumpkin batted at the air, chittering at a moth flying just beyond the dome. 

It wouldn’t hurt to just _think_ about the possibility though, right? The possibility of their current friendship superimposed with little moments of intimacy. Of a hug for no reason in particular, just to feel their heartbeats pair. The warm pressure of surreptitiously holding hands as they compared notes. Another dunamantic breakthrough, celebrated by feeling the warm slide of Caleb’s lips on his-

Essek was yanked from his increasingly embarrassing musings by the sound of skittering. He turned to see the bedroll by Fjord’s feet start to move before a giant wolf spider hatchling scuttled out. Huh. A nest must have been scooped within the subterranean radius of the dome. Essek had just started to levitate the hatchling out of the area when Fjord’s eyes shot open, staring directly that the spider hovering right over his face. 

Essek just barely casted Silence in time to prevent Fjord’s screams from waking the others. As he continued to float the spider out of the dome and set it gently in the underbrush, Fjord went into some sort of silent tirade, likely decrying that he knew Essek was still a traitor and out to kill him. Essek sighed, watching the half-orc struggle into sitting and summoning his sword. He had always been one of the more excitable members of the group, but this was ridiculous. The appearance of another hatchling at the foot of the bedroll was the momentary Fjord-meltdown-distraction Essek needed to reach into his component pouch and cast Sleep at a truly preposterous level to knock Fjord unconscious before his flailing woke Caduceus or Beauregard on either side of him. He could only hope Fjord would slip back into natural sleep when the spell wore off. 

Releasing the Silence as well as the second hatchling into the underbrush, Essek settled once more on the boulder, dividing his attention between the woods and the sleeping area. The additional hatchlings and the subsequent game of reverse-whack-a-mole was a soothing distraction from his own thoughts. Counting became naming became increasingly absurd naming (nests were large) became ranking on who was most desirable as a pet. Well, right up until Malekith Caduceus Ironwill Dawnbreaker III the Passive-Aggressive, Possessor of a Ninth Leg topped the list only to be immediately and graphically devoured by a fanged screamer once released from the dome. That was a bit of a downer. Essek casted Faerie Fire on Malekith’s remains as a final send off and as a brand of shame for the screamer. 

Essek really needed to rest. 

As if hearing his thought, Yasha woke on her own and came over to join him. 

“There aren’t that many hours until we need to get up. Go get some rest and regain your spell slots. I can handle the remainder of the watch,” she whispered once reaching him. 

“The woods have been quiet. We appear to have bedded down on top of a giant wolf spider nest though, so keep an eye out for any further babies.” He passed her a spider carcass a bit larger than Frumpkin. “Beauregard stomped on this one in her sleep if you are feeling peckish at all.”

Yasha gazed up at him with open fondness. “Thank you. You have many redeeming traits. I am glad you are with us. I will save a bit if you feel like having some in the morning. Have a good rest.” 

Interacting with Yasha was always a bizarre juxtaposition of being soothed by her soft-spoken demeanor and being on-edge with the constant knowledge she could snap him like a twig. There was a difference between Verin’s stockier build and Yasha’s arm being the size of his torso. He gave her a half smile that said “I value you, thanks for not breaking one of my bones with a violent sneeze” before he made his way over to the sleeping cluster.

He came to the only open spot: Yasha’s vacated position between Jester and Caleb. Essek gave a defeated sigh, settling in and hoping this didn’t somehow upset Caleb further in the morning.

\---  
Caleb came to slowly, drifting quietly in between asleep and awake. His mind was taking stock of his location and the last day when- ah. Yes. World altering realizations of attraction. He took another moment to rest with his eye closed before finding some degree of resolve. This could not happen. Essek’s friendship, collegial mind, and kindred passion for ongoing research was too important to ruin with lust. Caleb could and would get over a crush in the name of keeping these things intact.

His eyes opened to Essek curled beside him like a cat, face tucked into an elbow leaving only his soft white hair visible. It was in a painfully endearing rat’s nest, the antithesis of its general elegant style. 

Caleb could and would get over his crush in another five minutes. 

On its own volition, Caleb’s hand reached out and combed through that puff of hair to get it in some semblance of order. Almost immediately, wide violet eyes appeared over the line of the dark arm and Caleb found himself staring at a very awake Essek while his fingers twined into the man’s hair. 

“Ehm, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“No it’s- it’s quite alright. You don’t have to stop.” That was a sudden sort of swooping Caleb’s stomach hadn’t done since he was a teenager. Hesitantly, he continued sifting Essek’s hair back into place.

“Should we get them, like, a courtesy curtain or some shit?” came Beau’s unsubtle whisper before being sooshed by Jester. Caleb couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed, too focused on Essek’s own hand reaching out to trace along his jaw, catching on the stubble and sending pleasant tingles rushing down his nerves. 

“It’s been awhile since the beard has made an appearance,” Essek noted, voice rough and accent heavier with his recent trance. 

Caleb could and would get over his crush in another fifteen minutes. 

In idle curiosity, Caleb traced a finger up across the ridge of Essek’s pointed ear, surprised at how soft the skin was. Essek seemed to short circuit at this, pupils dilating and mouth dropping open in a small gasp and _oh wasn’t that interesting_ -

“SPIDERS!” Fjord shouted, shooting upright on his bedroll as Essek gave a body-wide flinch at the noise. In the next instant Fjord swung a wild look in their direction and before Caleb knew what was happening he had taken a lumpy pillow straight to the face. 

“FJOOOOOOORRRDDDDDD!” Came Jester’s irate shout.

“He was- he- trying to kill us-“

“And as you can see,” Essek responded dryly, “I was wildly successful, what with how incredibly dead you are right now.”

Caleb struggled free of the musty material and sat up, feeling gingerly at his nose. Making direct eye contact with Fjord, he incinerated the pillow in his hands. Fjord looked a pitiful combination of mournful and deeply confused. 

“He actually saved you all from spiders last night,” Yasha put in quietly from the boulder near the edge of the dome. When Caleb turned to look, she was chewing nonchalantly on a spider leg as if it were a piece of jerky. “So, you know, the cockblock you just did was kind of rude.” 

“No hanky-panky in the dome!” Veth shouted, sitting bolt-upright in her own bedroll and whipping her head around the area blearily. “Everyone leave room for Melora between you!”

“Why are you all so loud in the morning?” Essek asked rhetorically as Jester gave a frustrated shout, grabbed both Fjord and Veth from their bedrolls, and frog marched them out into the cooking site to lecture them further. Veth’s incensed screams at being toted like belligerent luggage brought the partially clothed Aurora Guard running from their own camp and commenced some sort of group-wide altercation about acceptable conduct first thing in the morning. 

“Alright kids,” Beau said, giving a broad stretch before standing up from her own bedroll, “you heard the mom friend: no hanky-panky in the dome. But for the love of the gods get this heart eyes shit out of your systems before coming to breakfast.” She paused next to Yasha, dropping a kiss on the aasimar’s head. “Come on, you are brushing your teeth or Jessie’s not going to come near you for the rest of the day.” Yasha gave a resigned look down at the partially eaten leg before tossing it into the nearby bushes and following Beau out. 

The dome was blessedly quiet from the mass exodus, and Caleb was thankful to Beau and Jester for the rare moment of privacy they had orchestrated. He turned to look at the final member of the Nein still in the dome with them, and found Caduceus blinking back placidly. Caleb raised his eyebrows.

“What? Oh. Is this- oh I get it. Alright then.” Caduceus ambled his way out to the communal area and over to Fjord, who he patted amiably on the shoulder after seeing him still out of sorts. 

“Are all mornings so dynamic with this group?” Essek asked awkwardly in the silence. 

“Afraid so. You really should not be surprised by this finding though. Ehm. Well. About earlier-”

“I have something for you,” Essek blurted before looking deeply irritated with himself. Caleb blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in tone as Essek started to open a pocket dimension. “I had designs to give it to you as we set out yesterday, but our departure was also a bit more eventful than I anticipated. I was able to secure this before leaving…” an immaculate book materialized into his hand, gilded cover not half as impressive as the elegant _Tome of Leadership and Influence_ spiraling across the top. 

Caleb’s mouth went dry. 

“I know it’s not your usual fare, and I actually found a couple of other sourcebooks that are more your speed for when we get back to Rosohna, but for what we may need to do on this particular quest…”

Caleb accepted the book slowly, heart singing with the weight of it in his hands. Setting it in his lap, he glanced up at Essek who was watching him nervously, chewing on his lower lip with one fang.

Caleb probably could not and definitely would not get over this crush. He supposed it wasn’t a crush anyway.

“Thank you,” he said simply, unable to voice just how little of that thanks was for the book itself. Caleb took Essek’s hand and gently kissed his palm before nuzzling a cheek into its hold. He could feel the chaotic flutter of Essek’s pulse against his jaw. After another moment, Essek’s other hand came up to cup Caleb’s face, a thumb running hesitantly across his cheekbone. 

“I know now is not the time,” Essek stated after seeming to take a moment to organize his thoughts. “There is logistically no worse place than the Vermaloc for this. I am also aware we should be putting our energies towards the upcoming infiltration, as even with clear minds it is going to be a psychological tightrope act. But.” Caleb looked up to see Essek staring with devastating earnestness at him. It was breathtaking. “I just want to be clear. I desire you, so, _so_ desperately,” his voice cracked before he cleared his throat, “in any and every capacity, to whatever level you are comfortable with, for however long you would tolerate. I care for you, to a crippling extent, and I want to permanently be the person I am when I’m around you. I don’t want you to feel obligated by this though. Say the word and I assure you we can continue exactly as we have been- I will be content in your company.” Essek swallowed audibly, and it took Caleb a moment to realize his pale freckles appeared so vivid because of a spectacular blush. 

Breathless and momentarily robbed of words, Caleb tilted forward to rest his forehead against Essek’s. “I am very out of practice to all of this,” he responded carefully, “and can’t guarantee I won’t make you hate me by the end of things. We are both… deeply flawed, and I think there is much that each of us has yet to share with the other. But… my mind is quiet when I’m with you. Whenever we are together, I can see the amazing things we have yet to accomplish instead of just the slideshow of my past sins. I see the same in you. The man you could be- the man you are becoming- is so much more than the man you have been. If you are asking to be that better self with me… there is nothing I want more.” A soft laugh escaped him, and feeling foolish he bumped his nose against Essek’s. “We will get through this _disastrous_ farce of an assignment, and once we are back in Rosohna I would very much like to investigate the “any and every capacity” portion of that offer. I will be honest: I would absolutely explore it now, but the risk of envenomation by something while your body is distracting me is unacceptably high. The thought of Jester’s glee at hearing I need to be cured of poisoning acquired while getting dicked down is utterly horrifying.” 

Essek’s choked laughter was the best sound in Caleb’s living memory. 

\--

Jester had been as active and boisterous around the camp as possible, helping to make breakfast until Caduceus’s silent killing intent had chased her away, arm-wresting and winning against the Aurora Guard’s bugbear to the cheers of the rest of the guard (An’rak! She had been learning names!), and helping Beau clean her saddle and boots after Chad had vomited all over them from gorging on rotten fruit.

It was maddening, like waiting for a cake to rise and not being able to peek in the oven. 

The oven in question finally ran out of time and dissipated around ten minutes beyond her flurry of activity. She looked over eagerly to-

Find the wizards conferring over a book.

“Oh come ON,” she proclaimed, stomping her foot and capturing the attention of the campsite. “What do you guys WANT? We give you like, the most privacy of anyone in this stupid camp and you aren’t even _making out_?”

“No hanky-panky in the dome,” Caleb and Essek responded in a tandem monotone, not looking up from their book. Oooh, they were so FRUSTRATING. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Verin asked beside her. He had been a bit less rigid and formal this morning, even good-naturedly joining in the impromptu wrestling match his soldiers had started up. Jester suspected selecting an “elite guard” entailed selecting his closest group of personal friends if their dynamic was anything to go on. She had hoped the dicks he had yet to find drawn on his armor would further help him unwind throughout the day, but at the mention of his brother the overly proper posture had returned. Everyone around Jester had so many _issues_.

“Ugh, they are being STUPID. Essek has been in love with Caleb since like, they MET, and Caleb was all “hurr durr I’m so dark and tortured I don’t deserve love” only then he remembered that Essek is like, super hot and smart and like, flawed enough to vibe apparently, and now he wants to make ALL of the babies with him but of course he is Caleb so he has to be CONFLICTED about it and I thought they had FINALLY gotten around to hooking up after all of the morning groping so we gave them some alone time and all we get is THIS,” she pointed angrily to the two wizards who were still _comparing notes_.

Verin’s face had gone on a progressive journey of horror at Jester’s explanation, but she was used to inciting that sort of response in people. 

“You owe me ten gold,” one of the drow (Viedrar!) said, joining them with a bowl of Caduceus’s vegan breakfast stew they seemed to be eyeing with mistrust. 

Verin made a strangled sound. “Essek is _not_ fucking the arcanist-“

(“Not for lack of trying!” Jester reminded.)

“-and I am hereby putting a moratorium on this topic. There will be a fine for anyone who brings it up.” He raised his voice to be heard through the camp. “Everyone start finishing up. I want to make Deepriver Mine for camp tonight.”

Caduceus made his way over to them with Fjord in tow at hearing the call. He offered a cup of tea to Verin, who looked at it as if it were poisoned. Viedrar snatched it up and dumped it over their stew before resuming eating. Caduceus looked briefly scandalized before turning back to Verin. “I figured you should know Oolong reported her group saw a party of dragonborn deeper in the woods while they were hunting last night. She couldn’t say what they were doing, but felt they were dodgy.”

“Who the fuck is Oolong?” Viedrar asked over Verin’s pained silence. 

“Caduceus’s cassoracious!” Jester put in. “She is as insightful as he is- we should definitely listen to her!”

“Oh cool, we’re using the turkeys as lookouts now. Also, Verin, not that I’m complaining, but why is your armor covered in penises?”

Verin looked down, seemed to be frustrated to the brink of tears, and started wandering deeper into camp. “Because I’m losing control of my life,” he said in parting. Jester could sense she was right on the brink of a good friendship with him and would have chased after him if she hadn’t had something _even better_ occupying her attention.

“Caduceus,” Jester sing-songed, glad to have some unwitting conspirators to talk to. “What do we do about that?” She waved her arm over to their studious teammates, who were now chatting animatedly but still did not have their faces on each other. Viedrar, who had remained behind, continued shoveling tea-stew into their face and glanced back and forth between Jester and Caduceus avidly. 

“Oh, well, there’s not really anything _to_ do. It is blossoming all on its own. It’s really nice they’ve found an oasis in each other.” 

“Wait, that really is a thing that’s happening?” Fjord asked in alarm. “Like, I know they spend a lot of time together, but it’s actually-“ he made a couple of rude hand gestures. Jester was so proud of him. “And are we…good with that?”

“Yeah, they are absolutely about to go at it against the next available tree,” Veth said, popping out of nowhere and scaring the living daylights out of the group. “And I still don’t trust Essek as far as I can throw him, but Caleb needs some sort of stress relief and he is about a decade overdue for a good fucking, so needs-must I guess. I want you all to keep an eye on hotboi though. One shady move and we shank him, okay?”

“I think he’s too busy being in love to be shady! Do you think they’re gonna get married? It might be good for international relations! I bet the Bright Queen would arrange an amazing wedding,” Jester gushed. 

“I think both of those scenarios are oversimplifying what’s happening here,” Caduceus added with a half smile. It was honestly the most logical (and because it was Caduceus, likely the most accurate), but Jester was enjoying the fairy tale appeal at the moment, and wanted to believe in an uncomplicated romance for just a bit longer, just to have something happy on the horizon. The group turned back to look at the two wizards, only to find Verin was talking seriously with Essek. His earlier derpy smile was long gone. Caleb was-

“For fuck’s sake, we’ve made it _so much worse_ ,” Veth lamented, watching Caleb stare wistfully after Essek before walking directly into a tree. Recovering and looking around anxiously to see their group watching him, he seemed to deflate, flush, and hurried over to the arborscythe with a pointed “guten morgen, eichhörnchen”. The arborscythe chittered like old nails being pulled out of wood, waved the cloud of knives that was its tail in greeting, and had a moment of frantic digging to uncover a humanoid leg that it presented to Caleb as a gift. Aww! 

“Yeah, so that’s a mess,” Fjord noted. “Now I do feel kind of bad about this morning. Perhaps we can get them a private room at this town we’re going into and give them a bit of time to work it out.” Jester waggled her eyebrows at him because really, _wording_.

An amused snort reminded them that they had an onlooker, and they all turned to see Viedrar looking absolutely gleeful.

“I’m gonna level with you: this trip is pretty much the best thing ever and is going to be gold for the garrison gossip mill. I’m going to write a biopic. In case you are unaware, the public image of the Shadowhand is some weird conglomeration of child prodigy, acclaimed academic, and the boogeyman. From Verin, we get that flavored with “annoying, evil older brother”. From you all, I have heard you refer to him more with the irreverent ‘hotboi’ than his title, and you seem to view him as some sort of slightly risky cock-for-hire. And don’t even get me started on you all. Heroes of the dynasty and international liaisons of peace, but also just a solid mass of bickering, screaming, and public property damage. I absolutely respect your prioritizing getting your wizard laid over strategizing how to not die in the fortress of the Children of Malice. I mean that sincerely. This is the most entertainment I’ve had in my life, and I never want it to end.” Viedrar stood up and passed their empty bowl of stew back to Caduceus. “Thank you for…everything really. I’d best go pack, but please feel free to continue mulling over the sex lives of the Deliverer of the Beacon and our head interrogator. You are all a gift.” 

“You know,” Caduceus said idly, “I kind of feel like we were just gleefully reprimanded?”

“No, they were TOTALLY in support of our actions,” Jester insisted. “Beau can keep Calzen, Viedrar’s going to be my best friend. VIEDRAR. COME BACK. DO YOU WANT TO WRITE A STORY WITH ME? VIEDRAR HOW MANY SYNONYMS DO YOU HAVE FOR ‘ENGORGED’?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay all- that was a heavy span of weeks we all went through, huh? For those who need a little catharsis, come, let me wrap a blanket around you in the form of shenanigans, therapeutic punching, not so therapeutic punching, and two wizard boys vibing. I really though this story would be done by the time the hiatus ended, but I am so overjoyed to be wrong! (…In that CR is coming back, not that I’ve become slow as balls, yikes)
> 
> Also, uhhhh….. I set the chapters at 7 when there was any semblance of following Essek week, and by golly we are gonna stick with that one vestige of how this fic got started, come hell or high water. Meet the chapter that almost doubles this fic’s word count. No chapter breaks, we die like authors who can’t project pacing appropriately.

It was time to put the fear of god into a pretty boy.

Well, that was probably optimistic. Essek lived with the constant knowledge that he could be tortured and executed by two separate nations at any given moment, so threats of bodily harm from an overprotective mother-figure were laughably weak. What Veth _did_ have at her disposal were his well-guarded anxiety and awkwardness, which were ripe for the needling. Less “fear of god” and more “crippling discomfort”, but she was flexible. Veth was not above emotional terrorism if it meant keeping Caleb safe. Also, it sounded fun.

It was child’s play to slip through the campsite undetected between Beau continuing to wage morning warfare with her cassoracious, Jester continuing to shout fledgling porn at the Aurora Watch, and Verin continuing to drift through the encampment in a cloud of dick-clad disdain. The only attention Veth earned, naturally, was Caduceus’s. Sitting peacefully in the center of the camp’s chaotic churning, he was enjoying a final cup of tea with his bitching cassoracious (that bird had a LOT of grievances to air). One of his large ears flicked as Veth moved through the shadows of the saplings, and though he didn’t make eye contact, he smiled quietly into his teacup. Veth chose to interpret that as endorsement. 

On the far end of the clearing, Caleb and Essek were being gross and smitten. Sure, it looked like they were efficiently donning packs and reorganizing the saddle, but they kept shooting quick glances at each other and sharing small smiles when they caught each other’s look. Despite herself she liked Essek, but seeing Caleb’s aura of quiet happiness renewed her resolution to dismember the drow if things went south.

Veth made sure to remain silent until she was about three feet from them. “I’d like a quick word,” she stated politely, making Essek fumble the components pouch he was securing to his belt and causing Caleb to jolt forward with a muttered Zemnian expletive. Satisfying. “Caleb, why don’t you go… curry the arborscythe or something. We will only be a minute.”

Caleb briefly glanced between her and Essek, worry causing his brow to knit. Essek shot him a half smile and tilted his head in the direction of the arborscythe, earning an eyeroll. Veth found she was mildly irritated by the non-verbal communication. Being on the same wavelength as Caleb was _her_ thing and she had never been very good at sharing. Seeming to sense this, Caleb gripped her shoulder in passing, a thanks and a warning in a single gesture. 

“I would imagine customs vary between our people,” Essek started once Caleb was out of earshot, “but is this where you list which of my organs you will send back to my den should I ruin our agreement?” 

His calm veneer was incredibly irritating. She was going to snap that confidence like an errant finger.

“Is that how you view this, Essie?” she asked benignly. “An agreement? I’m not certain if this is a drow thing or just an age thing. I know how old men like their contracts and formalities.”

Essek blinked. “Old-? _Essie?_ ”

“You both can do what you want, but Caleb has needs. Do you have potions to help performance? A great-great-grandfather like you, I would assume you have some sort of magical crutch already prepared. Focused anti-gravity spell maybe?”

Watching Essek’s ears perk up and features flush a shade darker was like tasting blood in the water. “I’m not- that’s not a- we are not having this conversation.”

“We really are though,” Veth said, channeling a goblin grin. “If you tell me what needs assistance, I can help. Is it the arthritis? The lack of lust? The actual mechanics of getting it up?”

Essek stared hopelessly at the sky for a moment, which Veth took as a personal victory until she caught his soft laughter. 

“Let us assume I can keep from dislocating a hip. I’m sure we’ll be fine; not all of us need Rhino Sex and a vicinity to Jester’s mother to fuel a physical relationship,” he replied smoothly. It was a flex, as Essek was nothing if not one-upmanship personified, but his flaunting of details from Nicodranas was less annoying due to the fact he had the wherewithal to banter at all. 

“Don’t be so hasty to dismiss aid. Caleb will be quite a reach for you- you’re very short.”

Veth was suddenly levitating, and for a singular instant she thought she was going to be crushed like the captured volstrucker. Instead, she shifted a few feet to the left and avoided being trampled by Chad, who now had Beau hanging from his neck in the midst of an impotent half-Nelson.

“He’s barely taller than me and matters of height are…not an issue in any case,” Essek replied slyly, joining Veth in hovering to avoid the flood of spiders that skittered out of the underbrush with the disruption. “I’m surprised honestly. I assumed you would have targeted my previous actions or personality as deal breakers. I have no prepared rebuttal for physical complaints, as I have never received any before.” 

_Arrogant fucker_ , Veth found herself thinking with near-unacceptable fondness. Alright, prod a different area. “If you are so confident, who am I to stand in the way then? I suppose I’ll have to be happy he picked you over Yussa, who is even older, shorter, and more accomplished. You’re like diet-Yussa.” Ah, there was the pressure point. Essek’s amused expression took a dive. If he had enough information to know about her and Yeza’s reunion, he would surely know who Nicodranas’s titular tower wizard was. “He doted on Caleb as well- taught him the teleportation circle, in fact.” Essek’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. Veth smiled sweetly. “Caleb is practically catnip to other wizards, isn’t he? That brilliant mind is in high demand. Oh, you thought you were his only tutor?”

Essek cleared his throat, lowering her back to the ground with a subtle flex of his wrist. “It was foolish to think so, certainly,” he said, all traces of earlier jesting gone. “I appreciate what you are doing here, but it is unnecessary. What damage I already inadvertently did is more than I can stomach. I will not hurt him if it is at all within my power. I am as confused as you for why he would wish to pursue something with me, and while I am selfishly overjoyed at the prospect, I will also not begrudge him if he finds better offers.”

UGH. Essek was no fun with this new sincere emo side they unearthed during his forced reveal. He and Caleb really were peas in a pod of self-hatred. To make matters worse, he remained hovering. Veth was shocked to find she felt a bit bad at making him lean into one of his coping mechanisms. Apparently her conscience was growing. What a terrible discovery.

“Oh, stop looking so crestfallen. You’re the one he’s actually pursuing, aren’t you? I guess there are more terrible choices he could have made. Barely. Don’t let the banter get to you, though,” Veth said, letting her own tone drop into full seriousness. “Purposeful or otherwise, should you hurt him, I will find every little weakness and insecurity in that mess of a brain you have, and I will push until you break in ways the Cerberus Assembly wishes they could achieve. Oh, and it would be your ambiguously functioning dick going back to Thelyss. You know, just so that both of our customs are satisfied.” She regarded him for another moment before digging into her dress pocket. “I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding. If you can make him happy, I’m happy. I saw you didn’t get breakfast; have some pocket bacon.”

He haltingly accepted the meat with a forced smile. “You are sending a lot of mixed messages here, but this is… ah… very kind.” 

“I’m being incredibly straightforward- I want my boy happy. Just know one wrong step and I’ll FUCKING KILL YOU.” Essek looked back in alarm at her sudden change in volume. She smiled sweetly before letting her expression drop flat and indicating between her eyes and him. “Go on. Go nerd out with Caleb and your unnamed frot-squirrel. If we stretch this out any longer it’s just gonna get awkward.” 

“Light forbid. And he has a name,” Essek replied absently, which was really not the modifier he should have protested. She found herself curious though, and at her raised eyebrow, he hesitated a moment longer. “…Wexkae.” That sounded entirely fake and she was about to call bullshit, but the arborscythe raised its head at the name and chittered excitedly. Oh god, the rows of teeth were _mobile_. It probably meant something pretentious, like “soulblighter” or something. She’d have to ask Beau later. It didn’t take understanding, however, to send him a judgmental stare and point meaningfully at him one last time before melting back into the underbrush. 

Veth decided to observe for a few moments longer from the maroon-tinged shadows as Essek shook his head and floated over to where Caleb had just stashed the saddle in his vault of amber. Essek promptly fed the pocket bacon to his sentient bag of fangs before sharing enough of the conversation for Caleb to go red-faced. His apparent flustered stammering earned a look of unsettlingly soft affection from the drow. Essek curled a finger, summoning a book from the ground and pressing it gently into Caleb’s anxiously restless hands. Caleb’s flighty movements halted around the leather binding and his flush settled as he stared down at the book for a moment. Glancing up, Caleb lifted a hand to touch lightly at Essek’s temple in thanks before giving a self-depreciating smile and tilting his head toward Wexkae. A quick smatter of apparent banter later they were hovering onto Wexkae’s back as some sort of gravitational spell anchored them in place of the saddle. The murdersquirrel then took three springboarding bounds off the surrounding trunks to launch vertically into the canopy of the Vermaloc, disappearing from view. Those fuckers. 

“ _We’re going to get an arboreal view of what’s lying in wait and will report back_ ,” Caleb’s voice was suddenly clear in her mind with the Message. “ _Do try to refrain from further speculation on our dicks or how we will use them while we’re gone._ ”

Veth grinned as she carefully worked her way back towards camp. The underbrush churned with creatures she was glad not to see directly. “I’ll let everyone know to wait until you get back for such conversations.”

“ _Keep pushing and I’ll go to the other extreme with keeping you posted in graphic detail_ ,” Caleb warned, and Veth couldn’t help the bright laughter it startled out of her. Her perfect, brilliant, _asshole_ boy. 

Veth made a quick detour over to the Aurora Watch, whose conversation in Undercommon was useless to her but a frisking of unguarded pouches got her seven gold, a healing potion, a small bundle of what may have been skein (scandalous!), and a piece of weird meat. She didn’t risk searching Verin’s pouches as she drifted past aside from depositing the skein inside one of them. 

“The wizards are our eyes in the sky,” Veth greeted as she came up to where Jester was painting closed the defect in Rainbows’ beak. “They’re squirreling around in the upper branches right now, so we should probably get underway lest one of them is knocked unconscious by a branch or something.”

“Oh my gosh,” Jester stated in delight, “they are up in the branches _all by themselves_ for LONG periods of time just clinging to each other? I should have known Caleb had a plan to get more time alone!”

Beau approached, finally firmly seated on Chad. “Yeah. Great. Because no one is more prepared for dealing with an ambush than _Caleb and Essek_. I actually can’t wait to play rescue. I seriously need to punch something before the day is out.” 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Verin warned grimly, now atop his own cassoracious as the rest of the Aurora Watch pulled up behind him. “We’re bound to encounter creatures you’ve never seen before, and they are all extremely dangerous. Stay close and stay alert.”

\---

The Mighty Nein were very, _very_ bad at staying close, and “alert” was off the table entirely. 

The ride oscillated between cacophony and what had to be magically aided stealth. One moment they were creating a rolling crash upon discovering just how well suited the cassoracious were to running through the dense underbrush, and the next An’rak watched as they entirely avoided the detection of a Giant Spider’s tremor-sensing web, ducked past a scavenging Ettercap, skirted a giant vermillion gila, and snuck directly under the nose of a sleeping broad leafed viper.

It was done with such innate competence that it made no sense whatsoever when Fjord took a moment to rest against a tree during a group break only to be consumed by the fanged maw of the trunk in a flailing of limbs. Before she could even raise the alarm to start proper protocol for extracting him (a delicate and precise application of fire, a surgical incision into the wood, and a stasis spell), Caduceus had peeled back the bark with a curtain of lichen and a chastising comment to the tree. As Fjord was extracted, looking irritated but not nearly as shaken as someone should have been for almost being digested by local flora, Veth and Jester came over and stabbed a knife into the wood. For some gods-forsaken reason, this seemed to lock open the mouth of the tree. The little tiefling then proceeded to sink her hands into the flesh-like innards of the trunk and extracted several pulsing glands, unconcerned by the botanical screams. 

At seeing the horrified faces of the Aurora Watch, Jester shrugged with comedically bloody hands. “What? You never know when a novel acid will come in handy!” She yanked out the knife, left a little stone arch and a pamphlet at the base of the tree, and in the next instant was back on the cassoracious. Veth took the reins while Jester started finger painting a dick of tree-blood onto the saddle. Then they were off into the underbrush again with a whoop. 

Who _were_ these people?

An’rak had to spare a moment to respect how personally tailored the Umavi had made this punishment for Verin. For someone who thrived on order and reason, being put in charge of watching the Nein was a curse of religious proportion. Of all the insults to his sensibilities, however, Verin seemed the most troubled by the fact that they genuinely seemed to like the Shadowhand. This was how she and Calzen found themselves spending the afternoon trying to farm information from Fjord and Caduceus on the nature of that friendship. 

It was not going well.

“It is such a unique way you explore novel environments. Are you all always so bold?” Calzen was asking. 

“You can only be as bold as the surroundings allow,” Caduceus stated in a mellow voice, thereby telling them exactly nothing. Fjord was too distracted trying to bat spiderwebs off his armor to answer. 

“It is such an extreme dichotomy from Kryn methods,” An’rak joined in. “Do you journey with the Shadowhand often? For one so well versed a subterfuge, it must be a jarring method for him.”

Caduceus blinked his large eyes. “I have no idea what any of that means.” 

So had gone the last _two hours_ of conversation. An’rak had never met a firbolg before, so was uncertain if his cunning was a race trait or just Caduceus specifically. His deft dismantling of the interrogation was master level; he had so summarily stonewalled them with the feigned idiocy that she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn he was an intelligence operative for one of the other nations. She would have to warn Verin. 

Leaving Calzen to beat his head against that wall, she scanned the rest of the group for a better option. Beauregard, with the quiet morning ride, had graduated to aggressively challenging every creature she came in contact with and was becoming progressively more frustrated without conflict. As An’rak watched, she was shouting “get back here and fight me you fucking coward!” at a barbed owlbear who was shuffling off with a pensive look over its shoulder. When Veth wasn’t calling out every hour on the hour that the wizards weren’t dead, she appeared to be _assembling a bomb_ on the back of a galloping cassoracious. Jester was cute as a button, strong as an ox, and absolutely not worth the headache. That left Yasha.

As An’rak went to approach the barbarian, Yasha abruptly dismounted, unsheathed a greatsword, and with a feral shout lunged to carve through a pile of vipers easily four times her size. Seeming to shake off the venom from the one snake who managed to strike her before being cleaved in two, she went a bit deeper into the brush and returned shortly with an unassuming flower and a small satisfied smile. 

An’rak really, _really_ wished the wizards weren’t in the canopy. By process of elimination the Shadowhand’s little consort was the only viable information source for the group at this point. He certainly seemed to be the sanest of the bunch. Being around the remainder of the Nein made her feel like a character who had not leveled up enough to be part of the party. She was used to crass and bawdy soldiers, but there was something certifiably and merrily unhinged about this group. 

Resigning herself to another conversation with Fjord (who was at least charming in his uselessness), An’rak turned just in time to see Caduceus abruptly halt his mount. As one, the other members of the Nein stopped their respective antics and watched him in quiet anticipation. It was an unsettling transition. 

“That smell,” Caduceus started quietly, staring into middle distance with a frown. “It’s the same. Not undead but not _not_ undead. Like the giant tortoise. I don’t…”

“Got it,” Veth stated abruptly. “Caleb and Essek are on their way back. Caleb said to circle up. Something’s wrong with Deepriver Mine. He was Calebing and being all cryptic but will give us the deets when they get here.” 

“Is it wise to have them come back to the area?” Caduceus asked. “It has the same feel as the Ghostlands right now.” 

His caution was irrelevant: with a soft rustle there was suddenly a wide fanged grin in the upper branches that resolved into the arboscythe’s nearly reptilian face. As it spiraled effortlessly down the vertical trunk, the Shadowhand and Caleb came into view, their bodies parallel to the ground but (somewhat predictably) not feeling gravity’s pull with the position. The human _still_ had his nose in a book, but a little fey creature was perched on his shoulders, surveying the woods attentively. 

“There is a complication,” the Shadowhand stated as they reached the ground, right before a draconic devil erupted from the surrounding forest and attempted to tear into his abdomen. 

The next few moments unfolded as a strange parody of battle. The air before the Shadowhand shimmered with an arcane shield, causing the devil to ricochet off of him and bounce backwards into Caleb’s own shield. It ping-ponged back and forth for a second before the Shadowhand flung it away with a disdainful flick of his wrist, sending it cartwheeling through the air to land at the feet of Fjord’s cassoracious. Fjord looked down in surprise before summoning a sword out of thin air and leaping off of his bird to stab the devil through the chest. 

“…okay?” Fjord asked in clear confusion as the devil spasmed and went limp. Its draconic features slowly started to collapse, shifting into a putrid gray ooze that pooled on the forest floor before slithering back into the underbrush where the devil had come from. 

“Well that can’t be good,” Caduceus noted unnecessarily.

The Shadowhand guided the arborscythe closer to the party, putting Yasha between them and where the devil had appeared. It was a strategic position aside from the fact the barbarian was back to investigating flowers and hadn’t even readied for battle yet.

Three more devils materialized from the foliage, stalking the edges of the party. An’rak glanced to Verin for formation orders, but before he could open his mouth Beauregard was moving. 

“Yes. FUCK yes. _Hell fucking yes_.” She ran up the side of a trunk and swung effortlessly from a branch to meet the devils halfway. “I can finally,” Beau shouted with a cracking downward punch to the nearest devil, “fucking,” a knee to the gut, “FIGHT SOMETHING.” A haymaker slammed into the draconic skull, rocketing the demon into the underbrush in an explosion of leaves and a stray flailing spider. 

“I get the sense your group could benefit from counselling,” Calzen stated beside Fjord. 

“You have _no_ idea,” Fjord responded before lackadaisically lobbing three beams of crackling green energy into the next devil. There was another explosion of gray ooze. The third devil didn’t even wait to be struck before collapsing back into ooze.

“Do you feel entirely superfluous right now?” An’rak asked Viedrar, who had come up on her other side during the skirmish. They shrugged, gave a considering look to the situation, and started to sip from a flask while watching the proceedings. 

Giving up on a lost strategy, the slime seemed to collect in on itself and slithered up into a towering, undulating column of grayish globules. It was embarrassing that it took seeing haunted faces flickering through the ooze for An’rak to connect the dots.

“An oblex,” An’rak called out to the group. “It’s a fucking undead oblex. We were seeing simulacra.” Identifying it certainly didn’t explain what one of the memory eaters was doing outside of the Underdark, however. Nor did she have the opportunity to postulate on it. With her words, two tentacles whipped forward and flailed against Igug, raising purulent welts across his arm. An additional fetid tentacle of screaming faces snapped forward and lashed around Caduceus’s forehead, pulling him from his cassoracious. 

“Oh. No. That is some nasty business, no. Absolutely not,” Caduceus stated with unnatural calm that further cemented An’rak’s conviction he was some sort of special ops. A soft green glow suffused him, burning away the shrieking tentacle. In the next instant, he slammed his staff into the ground, causing an explosion of verdant vines across the forest floor. The oblex gave a haunting chorus of moaning shrieks before toppling over backwards and awkwardly flopping itself back into the forest like a lugubrious slinky. 

“Okay, a couple of fun points,” Caduceus stated, rubbing at goo still caught in his fur and clambering back into his saddle. “One: nobody get close enough to allow that to happen again. I’m pretty sure it just tried to eat my brain. Two: that Turn Undead only lasts for a minute, so maybe we should talk as we walk? Three: obviously we could take that thing if we needed to, but I get the sense there are a LOT of them oozing around in the bushes. We might be better off going to the source of this mess.”

“As I was saying before we were interrupted,” the Shadowhand spoke up, “a complication. The outskirts of Deepriver Mine are in ruin and teeming with zombie duegar. We may find the necromancer who is reanimating oblexes by looking at the center of that undead horde.”

“Fucking sweet,” Beauregard proclaimed, cracking her knuckles. “Were there any ghosts? I can also punch ghosts.”

“I am wholly unsurprised by that. I will be sure to alert you if I note any specters that need punching.”

“Hey,” Caleb called, grabbing the Shadowhand’s attention with a hand on his shoulder. “I’m eager to fight alongside you, but I know outright conflict isn’t your preferred terrain. Be careful, ja?” His eyes darted over An’rak and her colleagues before he leaned in and murmured something unintelligible. The Shadowhand shrugged, looking unbothered, and in the next moment two shadow mages sprang into existence. Aulanonia gave an exclamation of delight at the arcane echoes as the wizards then took a moment to press a pearl to each other’s foreheads, briefly suffusing each other in a flash of dunamantic possibility. 

An’rak released her own echo on instinct (it was a logical preparation), but her attention remained fixed on the mages. The human knew dunamamcy. The _human_ knew _dunamancy_. She glanced to Verin, who flailed an abortive “what the fuck” gesture that the Shadowhand merrily ignored. 

“Gods this is a mess, I love it,” Viedrar gushed, releasing their own echo and looking fondly over their acquired allies. “How in the Luxon’s bright light are we going to coordinate attacks with this lot? It feels like we’ve acquired an anthropomorphized Deck Of Many Things.” 

“You’ve answered your own question, I think,” An’rak responded. “Let the cards fall and hope we don’t die.” 

In the next instant An’rak registered a vibration in the ground that was building rapidly in volume and magnitude. That was all the warning they had before a fucking Neothelid exploded out of the ground, scattering them all into the underbrush with the force of its entrance and making a small clearing of fractured trees to accommodate its height. Their preparation period had officially ended it would seem. 

An’rak had been with the Watch for close to two decades and had seen all manner of creature crawl out of Bazzoxan’s depths. The gargantuan worm was daunting with the rotting flesh of its undead hide dripping into the detritus of the forest floor, but staring up at the towering column of its body should have only filled her with anticipation. It was the sibilant whisper through her mind that turned her blood to ice and locked her muscles in place with horror. 

“ _There they are, they are, they are. Little thoughts and weakling hearts. I feel your breath and it desecrates, an insult, yes_.”

Her eyes were dragged up the worm, climbing and climbing with a knowing dread until she reached the comparatively small figure at the worm’s neck. Long tendrils splayed down the smaller creature’s chest, cephalopodic features dry and ghastly. She couldn’t say how she could tell the glowing sulfurous pits that were its eyes were filled with madness, but they certainly were. 

An’rak had never personally fought a Mind Flayer. No one in her lifetime had fought a Mind Flayer Lich. They were _so fucked_. 

“Hey who’s the jetsam looking motherfucker?” Beauregard called, seemingly unaffected by the crippling terror gripping the Aurora Watch. “Sup squidface! You the jerk-off who’s zombifying the area? Fucking party foul, asshole. Get your crusty ass down here and atone for your bullshit.”

This was how An’rak was going to die.

“This is so illuminating on how your group manages to get into the situations we hear about,” the Shadowhand stated bleakly. 

“ _Mouthy little foodstuffs, hardly any brain for a snack, oh yes-_ “

“If she didn’t say it someone else would,” Caleb responded, voice shaking but sounding on firmer footing than An’rak felt. “Right. Ja. Okay. This may as well happen.”

The Shadowhand gave a single huff of hopeless laughter before seeming to remember himself. “Verin, can you and the Watch keep the Neothelid off of us if we deal with-” he waved a hand at the Illithilich as shadows started to condense around him, engulfing his chest and spiraling down his arms in churning, opaque armor. An’rak felt actual physical weakness at the relief coursing through her. They were outclassed in a deadly way, but she had not factored in having one of Rosonha’s elite going into the fight with them. Verin looked similarly surprised and was doing just as bad a job at hiding his relief. 

“ _-will carve your flesh into rotting toys_ -“

“‘Avinsin’ if you lose control of the situation and we need to break,” Verin called back.

“We haven’t already lost control of the situation?” Fjord pondered. 

“ _-make your souls scream in eternal agony as your husks_ -“

“Hey dude?” Beauregard called up. “Trying to have a conversation here. Can you hold on the evil monologuing until it’s your turn to talk? You’re being really distracting right now.”

In response, the lich hissed, levitated off the Neothelid, and released a churning miasma of Cloudkill.

\---

“Talk to us Essek,” Beau shouted, snapping open her fan and sending a blasting Gust of Wind to disperse the poisonous cloud. It had the unfortunate side effect of sending the small army of Echo Knights and their shadows tumbling further into the woods, but she was sure they would understand. It was just helping them get into flanking position of the rotting worm anyway. “Why is everyone shitting their pants over this guy?”

Essek levitated his way off of the murdersquirrel as he finished armoring himself in shadows. “Mind Flayers, or Illithids-“

Beau rolled her eyes. _Fucking academics_. “ _SUCCINCT_ , Essek.” 

Irritation seemed to burn its way through his unease if the sharp look was anything to go by. Good. An irritated Essek was a focused Essek. “Mind-eating slavers from outer space. So psionic, so magic. Liches extra bad.”

“Magic on magic or punch the magic?” Beau asked.

“Punch the magic. Emphatically. Direct magic against it will be challenging.”

Fucking _yes_. She gave him a thumbs up that he seemed insulted by. This entire Tonn debacle had been a dry spell of Beau not contributing anything to the group beyond exploding one slime devil. She was all about being the secret weapon against the Rosohnan boogeyman. 

The magic users, hearing direct attacks were out, lit her up in a series of spells that felt like a hit of something illicit. Caleb’s Haste rocketed into her, turning her surroundings into a vivid crawl as Caduceus’s Holy Weapon ignited across her gloves and Jester’s Bless made her muscles feel weightless. Something undefinable from Essek settled around her arms and sent snaking shadows to dance about the bright aura of her holy weapon gloves.

Time to fuck shit up. 

In an explosive lurch forward, Beau swung up into the branches, leaping from tree to tree and gaining enough height to reach the levitating bastard. With an adrenalin fueled grin, Beau drew back a fist and-

Rocketed right through the illusion of the lich. Fuck a DUCK. Pivoting midair as the mirror image dispersed, she caught sight of a second lich right as a skeletal limb reached out and clamped a hand around her forearm. Beau had a brief moment to wonder how something could be dry and clammy at the same time before pervasive whispering tendrils snaked into her brain. 

Beau blinked, stilling on a branch. 

“ _Fight these heathens_ ,” the Illithilich whispered. Yes. That sounded like a better idea than what she was currently doing. 

She turned with her master to face the group as a tiny voice raged in the back of her mind before going still and silent.

Her master hardly needed the help. Right as the half orc covered himself in icy armor and the barbarian gave a haunting battle cry, her master turned, tentacles flaring, and released a rippling blast through the area that dragged screams of pain out of the fighters. The little shadow wizards exploded into smoke as all but the human and drow stilled and became immobile. 

Check that. The human, the drow, and something that just released a volley of bolts into her master’s chest. Letting out a wheeze of anger, he turned in the direction of the attack just as the area was cast into twilight and filled with clouds of stars. Beau blinked up at the beauty of the constellations before they seemed to ignite in a chain reaction, filling the area with a radiant explosion that sent her plummeting to the ground. Beau closed her eyes in silent clarity as her back hit the forest floor and the breath was knocked out of her. Her mind picked calmly at the tendrils from the Illithilich, carefully releasing the control it had planted in her brain until she was able to take a deep breath on her own. She sat up to the sound of passionate Zemnian expletives, and yeah. Seriously. Fuck this guy. 

Whatever space explosion Essek had done had wiped out the remaining mirror images, but Tall, Dead, and Creepy didn’t seem any worse for wear. As Beau watched, a bloodied Caleb was replaced by an infuriated Capeleb who let loose a deafening roar and yanked a startled looking Essek out of range of a lash of tentacles. Unfazed by the loss of his original target, the lich turned and lashed around the frozen Yasha instead. Though Beau lost Haste with Caleb’s transformation, time seemed to slow as she watched the tentacle engulf Yasha’s head. Rivulets of blood snaked down Yasha’s neck as the lich’s face snapped forward and with a wet crunch, Yasha went limp. The lich was flung back by another gravitational vortex before it started its meal, but Yasha lay motionless on the ground where it had dropped her. 

Beau didn’t know she was screaming until she tried to take a breath and choked. She didn’t know she was moving until her fist crushed into the alien bone structure of the Illithilich’s face and split the skin along her knuckles. She didn’t know she was about to die until she was pulled back from her attack and her attack and her attack and her _attack_ and _her attack_ by the sucking pull of Essek’s gravity and watched those tentacles, still covered in Yasha’s blood, barely miss her face. 

Jester was stunned. Caduceus was stunned. Yasha was dead. It played like a mantra with the beat of her heart.

Another shower of bolts came from the hidden Veth only to bounce off of the lich’s Shield. 

Essek was deposited gently into a tree as Capeleb turned, roared, and slammed a fist into the frail undead fucker. He went down in a gratifying pile of limbs, prone to Capeleb’s next raging swing. Beau waited for the satisfying crunch of bone. Instead, a haunting word echoed through the woods, sending a chill down to Beau’s fingertips. The ape was gone. Caleb dropped. 

There were tears on her cheeks, which only registered as she had to rub at her eyes to clear her vision to see if Caleb was breathing. She couldn’t fucking see if he was breathing. 

Nauseated by her hiccupping gasps, Beau once more lurched toward. They had to end this. They had to end this and get the clerics back in the game, or….

Her job was made easy for her. A precisely placed crossbow bolt shot through the sulfurous pit of its left eye socket. Another in its right. Another in its neck. A tree next to the lich exploded, filling the air with huge splinters of wood that briefly hung suspended before being pulled back towards the lich to skewer through its chest, its legs, its arms. Pinned against a tree by natural and crafted projectiles, it didn’t have any tricks left at its disposal as Beau fisted her hand in its tentacles and _ripped_. 

The re-dead corpse hung limply from the tree as Veth finally appeared, screaming for the clerics. Essek appeared to be having a pretty legitimate panic attack. Beau couldn’t breathe. 

Oh, the worm was still flailing around the woods. 

Okay. This was a better situation. This could be handled. 

Beau approached Essek, wiping at her eyes. There was a fight to be fought yet before she would allow herself to process exactly what was going on with Yasha and Caleb. Essek was for sure hyperventilating and kept bobbing into the air for a second or two before touching back down, the entire time staring blindly at Caleb who was very dead but it was okay, it was _okay_ , he wouldn’t be. 

“Hey, Essek, man, if that worm comes our way, we are totally fucked right now, you understand? Jester and Caduceus will fix this, but I need you to help make sure they are safe while they’re doing that. We lose one of the clerics and this all goes to shit.” She placed two fingers to a point on his neck and released a small pulse of ki to reset his breathing pattern. He gave a gasp as if coming up from underwater. 

“FUCK!” Jester’s voice broke through the clearing. This was okay. There was still enough time. They were going to be okay.

“Go on dude, go work out some ire. Caleb will be right as rain by the time you get back.”

Essek’s eyes finally seemed to clear before there was anger. Pure, unadulterated anger twisting his features. Beau’s face was a mess so the grin she felt tug at her mouth was probably ghoulish. Oh well. “Go fuck it up, huh?”

Essek once more started levitating and collecting shadows around himself, cloaking his body and turning his eyes black. The forest just beyond where the Nein were scattered plunged into darkness. He rocketed towards the sound of conflict. 

Veth was yanking at Caduceus who had just come out of his stunned state, so Beau went over to where Jester was sobbing quietly and shakily pressing a handful of small diamonds to Yasha’s chest. With a gentle caress to her horns, Beau seated herself and pulled Yasha’s head into her lap. In the next moment Yasha jolted with a gasp, then another. As a soundtrack of splattering rotting flesh filled the area, Yasha’s breathing became more even and she cracked open her eyes.

Beau smiled down at her as Jester pressed her face into Yasha’s neck. Beau was pretty sure she had snot all over her face, but Yasha had seen her in worse states. 

“Hey beautiful. Hot off the press: Mind Flayers are actually really fucking scary.”

Yasha gave a soft huff of laughter before groaning. “I think, maybe, we shouldn’t have another battle today. I think we are having an off day.”

Beau couldn’t help her own bark of hysterical laughter and took a moment to gather Jester and Yasha closer to her. It was an indeterminant amount of time before they were all willing to let go of the embrace and get to their feet, wiping at their faces and straightening their clothes. By the time Beau registered her surroundings again, Essek and the Aurora Watch were back in the area, their mounts were back and grooming themselves of slime they acquired during an apparent concurrent oblex slaughter, and Caduceus had stabilized Caleb and was in the process of a group prayer of healing.

“Okay,” Viedrar was saying from where they were slouched against a tree. They inhaled wetly before Caduceus’s prayer settled over the group. As the wound over their ribs closed, they looked on the brink of reverent tears before turning their attention back to Essek. “Okay, hear me out. Garrison life. The pay is abysmal and the housing averages 3.7 rats per bed, but you get short term disability, free dental, and a 10% discount at the local merchant. Am I selling this well? We have beef goulash every Folsen if that helps. Shit, please come live with us and beat stuff up. We’re practically friends, right… Essek?”

“No.” Essek, who had been chased away from Caleb’s side by a harried Caduceus and still had human blood on his hands, appeared to be in a state of prime bitchiness. 

“Okay. Sorry. Fuck, you’re still cool. Sorry.”

“Please ignore them, Shadowhand,” Aulanonia implored. “They will be summarily beaten for their insolence later.” 

Jester, who dealt with her own trauma by soothing others and was well versed in identifying wizards in a bad mood spiral, decided to intervene. “Don’t be cranky Essek!” she stated brightly as she came up beside him with open arms and an expectant smile. Giving a defeated sigh, he allowed her to loop her arms around his waist and suffered the embrace in stoic silence as the Aurora Watch goggled. They had no way of knowing it was viscerally impossible to deny Jester a hug. “Don’t mind him, he’s just grumpy because he’s had to go more than 24 hours without bathing and now has goo on him,” she stated, grinning at Essek’s exasperated expression. They all knew it was 5% bad hygiene and 95% transiently dead Caleb, but Jester’s excuse allowed him to keep the aloof persona. “He’s very fastidious you know. Don’t worry Essek, you still smell nice.” 

Verin had the look of someone trying and failing to do complicated mental math. Jester, meanwhile, turned her attention fully to Viedrar with a huge smile. “Anyway, of _course_ we are all friends. We’re not very good at staying in one place, but maybe we can plan another visit to Bazzoxan in the future. Have a combat picnic! Right now, though, can we discuss what the hell just happened? That was a nested doll of SUCK.”

“Yeah, like a shitty necromantic onion,” Fjord agreed as Star Razor popped back into whatever dimension it rested in. He pushed to his feet after Caduceus’s healing completed. “Just to confirm for the party, because I wouldn’t want Beauregard to be confused-” oh fuck him, he was such a posturing piece of shit, “-the original monster was a devil that was then consumed and replicated by the oblex, who at some point was killed, reanimated, and controlled by this undead squidmotherfucker, who… was up here and not down in the Underdark just for the shits?” 

“No Illithilich is a paragon of mental wellness, but that creature had clearly been driven mad. It was much sloppier than the average Mind Flayer and didn’t even try to escape when the battle started to turn against it,” Essek stated. The implication that they had just been partially murdered by a weaken, shitty Illithilich was horrifying. “Something in the Underdark drove it mad and to the surface,” Essek concluded while gently extracting Jester’s arms as the embrace lingered beyond his comfort.

“How in the seven fucks do we always find these sorts of messes?” Fjord asked, seemingly oblivious to the powerplay of affection happening. “I’m going to go become a farmer.”

“I could provide you the bodies for your fields,” Caduceus replied fondly as the two shared a soft smile entirely inappropriate to the subject matter. Caduceus then turned his attention back to Caleb for a final round of personalized healing. 

“Okay, disregarding that the firbolg is apparently a serial killer, anyone else concerned about the Abishai?” Aulanonia asked. “The draconic devil,” she clarified when she was greeted with silence.

“ _That_ is the part of the encounter you found disturbing?” Fjord asked, picking at a piece of rotting worm that had stuck to his shoulder. 

“It is more the implications of it,” Essek explained. Being a walking library appeared to be how he coped with trauma. “The only other time we have seen devils has been from the rifts you assisted in closing. As this encounter was a smorgasbord of Underdark denizens, it stands to reason the devil that the oblex recreated was originally encountered in the Underdark.”

“And I would imagine the only way to find a new rift would be to systematically comb the countless miles of cavern down there. Unless you could find and interrogate whoever opened it that is,” Caleb concluded, finally sitting up. He was nearly knocked back down as Veth collided with him in a violent hug and a litany of something murmured into his neck. Caleb returned the hug tightly before clambering to his feet with a grunt and setting Veth back down. His joining the party immediately transformed Essek’s expression into something warm and hopeless. As was their habit, the two gravitated towards each other leaving virtually no personal space. Nearly out of view, Essek gripped tightly at Caleb’s wrist. 

“And there’s still the original horizonback,” Verin noted. “If the firbolg’s nose is to be believed, that suggests there is some sort of ancient undead oblex on Rosohna’s doorstep. Hopefully _only_ an oblex. I think we should secure the area, see if there are any survivors left in the city, and then contact Mother to see how to prioritize things.”

With a collective groan, those still sitting got to their feet. Beau honestly could have gone for bedding down for the night to process the day’s events, but she supposed that was what compartmentalization was for. Jester, meanwhile, looked thoughtfully over the bedraggled group. “All previous joking aside, I do think a shower is in order.” Beau was almost afraid to ask, but she didn’t have the time to as a torrential rainfall dumped over the group, presumably an inspired and unwelcomed continuous use of Create or Destroy Water. The group stared at Jester in sopping displeasure after the deluge stopped, but in fairness, it _was_ a more sanitary displeasure. Besides, however much Essek looked like a cat that had been thrown into a lake, the small sphere of repelled water around Caleb’s spellbook proved he could have stayed dry if he wanted to. 

It was in that moment that Caleb abruptly froze with an exclamation in Zemnian. He whipped his sopping head towards Essek. 

“That’s it. That’s it! What we- the, the- the, em, the-” he waved a damp hand in irritation, as if trying to catch the words in Common that were evading him in his excitement. Seeing his struggle, Essek pinched out some functionally damp components from the pouch on his belt for a quick spell, and with a look of glowing gratitude Caleb was off in a near continuous, frantically excited stream of Zemnian. It was completely incomprehensible what had him so worked up, but it appeared to be captivating Essek as well. His neutral mask started to slip as he gave fevered little encouragements of “yes, I see” and “oh, that’s- brilliant!” By the time Caleb paused to catch a breath, Essek was nearly vibrating with boyish excitement over whatever information he had received. Caleb, with a fumbling hand, cast his own Comprehend Languages and then it was Essek’s turn to tear off in rapid-fire Undercommon, the fastest Beau had ever heard him talk. 

“It’s like watching those bizarre mating dances the moor-storks do,” Viedrar commented before Aulanonia punched them in the side. “It’s my native language and I don’t have a fucking clue what he’s talking about. You following any of this?”

“Shut up shut _up_ ,” Aulanonia hissed, watching with wide eyes as the two wizards gesticulated wildly with escalating frenetic glee. 

Jester glanced to Beau for help. “I know how to ask where the bathroom is. He’s dropping like 17 syllable words here. I’ve got nothing.” Beau always felt guilty denying Jessie anything, but even what she could translate were clusters of terms like “parabolic dunamantic dispersion”. They were speaking a third language in their foreign languages.

It was nearly ten minutes of continual back and forth (during which time Fjord gained considerable favor with the group by pulling most of the water back out of their clothes) before the wizards reached some sort of conclusion to the brainstorming. Caleb cupped Essek’s face with an unfettered adoration that Essek mirrored by grasping his wrists and bringing their foreheads together. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture given the audience, but recent events seemed to have shaken Essek’s remaining fucks out of him. They stood there for several more moments, eyes closed and oblivious to their surroundings as they shared breathless, giddy laughter. 

“Ah shit,” Igug growled from the back of the group. “Sorry boss, I ship it.”

“I know, _right_?” Jester whisper-squealed. 

“It’s cute as fuck is what it is,” An’rak admitted gruffly. “Look at them, being all nerd-smitten.”

“How can you be fixated on romance right now when we are watching an evolution of dunamis as we know it?” Aulanonia asked, clawing out a journal she started scribbling furiously in. “I obviously only caught one side of that incredible conversation- they were spitballing theoretical dunamantic relativity and multiverse manipulation at just a _staggering_ level of intrinsic understanding- but what I could pick up is unheard of. Ground-breaking. _Rule_ breaking. I would be dry-humping Calzen right now if I had just had that conversation.”

“Ew,” Calzen said. 

“Okay,” Viedrar conceded, “revolutionary magic, but also I think we just watched their version of foreplay in broad daylight. Back me up on this Verin. That is the Shadowhand’s “I want sexytimes” face, isn’t it?”

A soft chime rang out. “Oh look, Mother is calling,” Verin evaded with obvious relief.

“Don’t shtup on the border of a possible massacre you two!” Veth called out. “Your dicks might get haunted!” Caleb cheerfully flipped her off without looking. Cracking open an eye, Essek gave a subtle motion of his freed hand and caused her to backflip into a mud puddle with a squawk. 

\---

As the rest of the party left Caleb and Essek to their canoodling (that naturally only lasted long enough for them to get out their respective spellbooks and start scribbling furiously), Jester went to the far edge of the new clearing and settled in to sketch for a bit. She would have to find a work around for being incapacitated, because tracking that fight and not being able to do anything was horrible. She added some harsh, dark shading to the sketch in irritation.

Verin finished his conversation with the Umavi as Jester moved on to her third sheet of angry drawings. She considered moving as he called over the rest of the Aurora Watch, but they didn’t seem bothered by her vicinity.

“The Lens is teleporting in later tonight to see if they can locate the lich’s phylactery and to start work on identifying what is going on in the Underdark,” Verin stated. “Until then, Deepriver Mine needs to be secured. I’m counting on you all to do that for us. Mother says it’s paramount we keep with this Tonn mission and to speed up our travel as much as able. I don’t know if Essek knows something he’s not telling us, but Mother certainly does. This mission is being given disproportionate priority.”

“We’re… splitting up?” Aulanonia asked quietly.

“No. Verin, come on man, don’t do this.” Viedrar stared imploringly. “We just encountered a fucking Illithilich. We watched the Shadowhand squeeze a Neothelid guts out like a tube of toothpaste. Caduceus does _party wide healing_. Please don’t leave us behind now. This mission is so cool.”

Verin gave an exhausted sigh. “You were supposed to hate this entire assignment. You all are the worst best friends ever.”

Viedrar looked the most sheepish Jester had seen them look the entire trip. “I’m sorry! I was expecting your brother to be a regular dick, not a likable dick. He gets all dorky over his nerd crush and explodes things with his found family of diplomat-assassins! They are all fucking disasters who somehow routinely Murphy’s Law their way into success and it is a gift to watch. Also the entire party is weirdly attractive? Look, the truth of it is seeing how happy they make each other and watching them play off each other is just amazingly cathartic after all the war tensions we’ve been living through. It feels wrong to abandon all of this part way in.”

“If Viedrar could move past their own desires for a moment, they would also point out you’re asking to go into the most dangerous leg of this trip without backup,” Calzen put in quietly. 

“You all know I’d rather have you with me. But we are soldiers, and Deepriver Mine is just regular citizens surrounded by the Undead. I have no idea how the confrontation with Tonn is going to go, but I’d wager Essek and his merry band of psychopaths are going to manage just fine. A baker trying to ward off an undead dark dwarf has far worse chances. You are staying here to protect the people. That is a direct order.” 

“Fucking lawful good hardass,” Igug murmured with a half-smile. 

Verin socked him in the shoulder, which Igug had the good graces to mime staggering back from. “Go collect your things. I’ll update the Mighty Nein and we’ll break paths shortly.”

Verin shouted in dismay at the impromptu dogpile of a group hug before the rest of the Watch returned to the central clearing. He took a moment and a calming breath before moving to follow them. Jester caught Verin’s eye as he turned back and smiled widely. To her surprise, he made his way towards her after a contemplative look and a heavy sigh. 

“May I join you for a moment?” he asked, catching a glimpse of the sketches in her book she was working on. He didn’t deign to comment on the incredible shading of her decapitated lich, so that was a point against him. 

“What did you want to talk about?” She invited, biting her lip as she worked to get the shape of the flames coming out of the lich’s butt just right. 

“You no doubt overheard I’ll be stationing the rest of the Watch here as we move forward to Dumaran. I was just…”

Jester looked up when he tapered off into silence. Verin was visibly struggling with what he was trying to say, but she could sense interrupting him now would derail him. She added more swords to the slaughtered lich to give him time to collect himself. 

"I’m… daunted by going forward without backup… without my friends. How do you interact with him so easily?" he asked at last. She had expected something along these lines but was further surprised as Verin then plowed forward in a rush of words. “I barely understood him before, and I don’t understand him at all now. I’ve known Essek for over a century, and he is an entirely different person around this group. I was disdainful of your friendship because I assumed you were blind to his charm, but I got it backwards, didn’t I? He’s the one charmed by you all, and I don’t understand how you got there. We have never been close, but I could reconcile that with Essek never being close to _anyone_. He was meant to be an aloof bastard and that was no reflection on me. But now you are all this tight knit group and he still hates me and… I’m having difficulty adjusting to that.”

Jester put her sketchbook down slowly and willed her tail to stop flicking with the sadness she was feeling. Wordlessly, she dug into her bag and pulled out a double chocolate muffin to give him. These conversations were always better with a confection to focus on. 

“You know,” she stalled, trying to find the right words as Verin accepted the muffin in confusion, “the Dynasty is so cool and advanced, and your sense of culture is really great! But it makes me sad how much of yourselves you lose in being who you think you have to be. It seems to be poisoning all of the relationships we have seen. Essek was assigned to us as the Shadowhand, but he has only ever been Essek to us. I think maybe the fact that we _weren’t_ Dynasty and had no expectation of who he was supposed to be helped us meet who he actually is? It’s hard to explain. It’s like you with the Watch- you were being fun and dorky this morning, until you thought you were supposed to be wearing the commander persona, and then you became very… um… austere. I don’t think Essek hates you, but I think he does dislike the life you remind him of. And if you are happy with the Taskhand persona, then that’s okay! Some people just naturally don’t get along, and it would be just as bad to change yourself to accommodate Essek. But if you act the way you act because you think that is what he requires of you… maybe don’t do that? I don’t know. I get that it is harder to show, like, the “real” you in case you get rejected then too. I’ve felt that and it sucks. But I also feel like you would be happier regardless of his opinion if you let that side out more.” She sighed, twiddling her thumbs a bit. “In some ways it’s easier for us. We are strange broken people who don’t slot in very well to the rest of society, and I think that made it easier for us to share and bond over who we really are. Silver linings, you know? So like, ignore being all smart and proper and Taskhandy- what is it you like?”

She looked up to find Verin staring at her with glassy eyes. He quickly shoved a huge chunk of muffin in his mouth and glanced away as he chewed. “Shit, that’s really good actually.”

Jester grinned. “I know, right?”

Verin swallowed with difficulty, cleared his throat, and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. It was a mundane action endearing for how unrefined it was. “I, ah. I really love brawling. A lot. I’m quite good at it, which is something of an embarrassment to our aristocratic family.”

“Oooh yeah!” Jester enthused, giving him a fist bump. “Beau and I once broke a bar in a brawl for money. We should _totally_ fight when this is over. It would be super fun to punch you!”

“That is strangely sweet, thank you. We should definitely punch each other in the future. I also really enjoy the frankness of the barracks I think. Our entire society is built on being understated and playing a game of unspoken cues. It’s refreshing as hell to wake up and have Igug tell me I look like shit at breakfast.”

“Woof,” Jester agreed, “neither of you is a very good fit for Dynasty standards, are you? I wonder if it comes from growing up with an Umavi?”

Verin blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? Essek is the pinnacle of charming obfuscation. He is the Court and Den darling.”

“I don’t think he sees it that way. The Shadowhand maybe, but not Essek. That’s more a conversation you should have with him though,” Jester suggested gently. “It will take some doing maybe, but you guys may actually get along if you learn how to talk.”

Verin snorted. “I wouldn’t get too carried away. I’m more looking for getting to a point where I don’t worry about him murdering me in my sleep.”

“Well, he hasn’t murdered us yet and we are much more annoying. Come on, let’s update the others and maybe we can all have a feelings jam tonight. It may actually be the best time to hash out a conversation with Essek- we’ve had some of our most productive talks with him after he’s had a shit day and his guard is down.”

Verin stared at her as if the very notion were inconceivable, but stuffed the remainder of the muffin in his mouth and offered her a hand up. She grinned broadly. She _knew_ they would become friends. 

As they made their way back into camp, the Aurora Watch already had their packs ready and looked to Verin expectantly.  
“Mom says we need to get a move on,” Verin stated, immediately grabbing Essek’s attention with his informal wording. “My crew will take care of Deepriver Mine. We’ve been given permission to haul ass towards Tonn.”

“And by ‘haul ass’ you mean…” Essek prompted.

“Yeah,” Verin replied with a grin. “Teleport that shit.”

“Praise everything locked behind the Divine Gate,” Essek said, snapping closed his spellbook and sticking it back in a pocket dimension. “I have an 8th level left and a vague recollection of what a few of the villages outside Dumaran look like. Let’s play the odds.”

“Oh hey,” Beau said, “Teleportation has a passenger limit right? Guess that means Chad is staying with the Watch. What a loss this is for me.” Chad warbled menacingly.

Veth patted Rainbows, who was too busy trying and failing to peck at the evening dappled sunlight to care. “A chapter is certainly coming to a close. We should get some of these things in the future to have as our very own and then abandon them shortly thereafter. Is Wexkae staying too? We max out at nine people for teleportation, don’t we?”

“Wexkae,” Verin stated flatly. “Are you fucking serious.”

Essek surveyed the Watch before passing the arborscythe’s reins to Aulanonia. “Take care of him please. He’s very friendly.”

Aulanonia, at a loss for words, gripped the reins and nodded vigorously. Essek tolerated the affectionate headbutt from Wexkae as the Watch mounted up, picked up the spare reins, and Aulanonia clambered up the arborscythe using scales as handholds. There were quiet goodbyes to the Watch and mounts alike before the split couldn’t be put off any longer. 

“So, um, don’t die permanently. Visit soon,” Viedrar said awkwardly to the group before they and the rest of the Watch turned and headed towards Deepriver Mine. 

“You guys are the best!” Jester called at their retreating backs and earned a few acknowledging waves in reply. “Alright, Mighty Nein and the Drow Brothers, let’s get this show on the road.” She held out her hands as they all formed a circle. 

“You don’t need to handhold for Tele-” Verin started to say as the disconcerting swirl took hold and rocketed them into another small Vermaloc clearing with markedly more spider webs but less undead body parts. 

“Okay, since we are not saving the lives of the innocent, petition to just bed down for the night and be done with this day?” Beau asked. She was greeted with a chorus of support. 

“Sweet. Drowbois, you good with taking first watch? A regular watch this time. Wake Fjord and Caduceus after two hours so you can get a full night of sleep and recover properly.” Jester asked sweetly. Caleb was already starting the ritual for the hut as Caduceus distributed some bread and preserves for dinner. 

“If that is necessary,” Essek replied warily, clearly sensing a trap.

“It won’t be so bad,” Verin said, earning a skeptical look. “Besides, I want to hear how we plan on entering the keep. Your planned approach to Tonn is probably stupid.”

Essek narrowed his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I can only assume you have something planned that would be an appropriate approach to handling the sleeper agents in the Dynasty, like the original honeypot plan was. But we’re not. Vivurk Tonn is one of the few visible figureheads of the Children of Malice. She isn’t going to be fazed by Dynasty laws or decorum because she doesn’t see herself as part of it. You need to be using the loopholes of Lolthian society. The Queen Spider is a scary, vindictive bitch. We’ve seen the results of followers that displeased her at Bazzoxan. Find tenets that will make Tonn fear displeasing Lolth. _That’s_ the way to take control at the beginning of this meeting.”

“Do you have ideas already?” For the first time since the trip began, Verin had Essek’s undivided attention. Verin smiled widely and started outlining a few obscure laws. Jester hid her own smile in her arm as she bedded down with the others and looped her tail around Beau’s leg. The two drow were still murmuring softly by the time she fell asleep.

\---

For the third time since Essek had curled up at his side, Caleb felt Essek jolt awake and lay in anguished silence beside him. The drow muttered a curse in Undercommon when he lost a battle of wills with himself and reached out a tentative hand to feel for Caleb’s heartbeat. Caleb could easily forget that Essek wasn’t used to adventuring and that watching several of his friends nearly die earlier was a novel and jarring experience. Wordlessly (because he remembered that feeling, and the firm desire to Not Discuss It), Caleb threaded their fingers together. Going rigid at feeling Caleb awake, Essek gave another murmur of something less harsh sounding before returning the clasp. Emboldened, Caleb tugged gently, rolling Essek into his side. There was a tense moment of silence where he was convinced the other man was going to stand up and walk away entirely. In the next breath however Essek seemed to melt into the embrace and laid his head on Caleb’s chest, ear pressed directly over the beat of his heart where their hands had just been resting. 

“This is going to garner so much ridicule in the morning,” Essek stated in the barest breath of a whisper while decidedly not moving. Fjord and Caduceus, who were still keeping watch, glanced back at hearing the quiet murmur before fully turning their backs for what little privacy they could offer. 

Unbidden, Caleb once more found his hand going to Essek’s hair, sifting through the fine strands and scratching lightly along his scalp. In the moment, his focus had only been to lessen Essek’s distress, but it felt absurdly good to have his body pressed against him. It wouldn’t be a bad default for the future. There was some sort of primal protectiveness coursing through him, some part of his lizard brain that demanded he keep Essek in the close safety of his arms. Caleb’s body was starting to take interest in this sleeping arrangement as well, but it was an abstract observation, one easily ignored in the interest of offering comfort. 

“We are very crass, but not so crass as that. We all understand trauma and what is needed to work through it. Besides, cajoling is this group’s love language. Even if they say nothing in the morning, it is an inevitability for the future. You are one of us.”

Essek gave a soft, satisfied hum that vibrated along the skin of Caleb’s chest pleasantly. “Well. If it is an inevitability…” He took in a shaky breath. “You were dead today. I have dealt with death my entire life, but this felt different and I don’t understand how you all are going on as usual.”

Caleb sighed, rubbing a hand at the base of Essek’s neck and feeling him shiver pleasantly. “It gets easier. This is not uncommon for us and is part of why the danger you think hounds you doesn’t daunt us much. You just have to find the best way to process it and then move forward.”

“How in all the far-reaching hells was our conversation just this morning? Time is a specialty of mine and it feels like a decade happened today. This party is exhausting.”

“Welcome to the Mighty Nein,” Caleb teased lightly, because really, what a mood that was. His undershirt stirred with Essek’s huff of laughter. It was only another minute and forty three seconds before he went completely loose limbed. Smiling into the darkness of the dome, Caleb found his own sleep shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It never came up, but Yasha’s cassoracious was named Wyokzdale (Abyssal for Drumstick)
> 
> For the technically minded, the Mind Flayer Lich did: Cloudkill, Mirror Image, Dominate Monster (controlling Beau until she Stillness of Mind’d it), Mind Blast (tons of psychic damage and a stun with a ridiculously high intelligence DC only Caleb, Essek, and Veth saved on), a partial Extract Brain on Yasha, an attempted Paralyzing Touch on Beau, and Power Word Kill on Caleb. They also have advantage on all magical saving throws and can chose to succeed instead of fail on 3 throws a day, so yeah. Punch the magic. These bitches have a horrifying character sheet. 
> 
> Also important information to share: knowing Essek is level 15+, I tweaked the closest drow stats I could find, which happened to be “favored drow consort”. This will never not be hilarious to me.


End file.
